Friday, May 4, 2012

Difficult Working Conditions

If I thought The Ex and I were going to compose music together without it getting complicated, I had another think coming.
 
To start with, I learned early to watch where I left my phone lying, and later I learned to hide it altogether, with the SIM card, battery and "motherboard" securely divorced in three separate secure venues.

But before I internalized that lesson, she would frustrate the buttons on the device while exclaiming wicked things like "All your messages are from Safaricom!!!" And then she would laaaaaaauuugh.

"Look here," I would say, and leave it hanging, to undertake the menial task of chasing her arms around to recover my cellphone.

This circus never really ended, because I would have to urge her, repeatedly urge her, to focus on the music business while she often reverted to mocking me about not getting any.

Suddenly, I got fed up. "It's none of your business!"
"No, seriously, this your case is extreme." Straight sombre face.
"Still not your business."
"You need to loosen up a bit." Concerned face.

Silence is golden.

"Just don't be giving people handshakes…"

I don't know why I put up with this.

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