My phone :(

Hi peeps, do you ever feel this way. Like lonely or something close?

*searches for words*

Restless? As if you haven’t really met yourself yet. As is you’d passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt – ‘Ah! There I Am! I’ve been missing that piece!’ But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it. Have you? That’s what I feel. i don’t know how to admit that i don’t know where my phone is.

Well, she’s been lost for some days now. Yet, me being the optimist freak, have kept this story from readers here for so long. Of course vehemently convincing myself that as long as there is coffee in the world, how bad could things be? But hey, my coffee jar is empty now. I didn’t know I could replace the long spans i spend on my phone with copious amounts of coffee. Problem: Now I’m here, no coffee, no money to replace the coffee (MPESA went with the phone) and no phone. The only thing i have right now is enough ego not to borrow someone’s phone and go replace my SIM Card and all of the world’s optimism. It is the possibility of that G-Tide appearing anywhere that keeps me going, and though you may call me a dreamer or a fool or any other thing, I believe that anything is possible. And then this obviously confirms, know what? I knew you peeps hate bloggers, you want them to starve to death. Just imagine, I can’t even call the damsel who delivers groceries to my square:(. Some nasty fellar in the blogosphere is hiding my phone, eh?

Some nasty fellar in the blogosphere is hiding my phone, eh?

I’m serious about the thingy appearing anywhere. In fact when i dashed to the ATM, i pushed in my card expecting my phone to pop out. But the ‘idiot’ behind that wall held my card too. The efforts of the guard trying to convince me that my card had been swallowed proved futile for the obvious reasons: who can make a machine that can dilute the hard facts of life making it possible to swallow and digest them. My ATM Card, along with the bank account, is one of the hard facts of life because it’s either always overdrawn or never loaded. Never mind, i don’t understand that either. But the machine, having noted that my account is always drained should have warned me like, ‘Do not be childish; I am going to swallow that card of yours!’ Of course like i told you, my trip to the ATM was just because i expected my phone to pop out of that machine. And so because i don’t trust my bankers. They could’ve had my phone anyhow. Nothing else.

Anyway, let’s recollect. Last thing i reckon was hundreds of unread emails. 20 unread texts. 15 missed calls. The battery is low. Given the urgency of the situation, I remember wanting to recharge the battery. But i had to prioritize, ie: discharge myself first. So i went to the gents and then *memory blurred* … Might it be what you are thinking? I’m not sure about that but I remember going back to my hostel room, and a pop-out facebook notification on my laptop of some selfie pics of someone who’d just said ‘yes’ to a proposal made me forget my phone. Those damn selfie pics, sooooo many, I had to spend an hour on them.

Then after that glorious hour of stalking, zooming and ‘slurping’ a mini heart attack brought by ‘where is my phone’ jolts me to my senses. ‘Relax boy’, that’s how we all convince our dummy selves. Dude, i say when you lose your phone don’t relax like i did. Do this:

… a mini heart attack brought by ‘where is my phone’ jolts me..

1. make the whole world know it. tweet, facebook etc, and blog immediately.

2. sweep the whole damn place. that’ll help clean-up the place too.

3. go to the doc, tell him you just heard a heart attack. don’t tell about the phone.

4. look for the phone.

But my relationship with the G-Tide had not been rosy before then, so i couldn’t do all these. She’d been so stubborn, she’d refused to die when i smashed her to the wall for misbehaving at a friend’s party. She’d rang out so loud with those pre-installed Chinese ringtones that make peeing on your pants less embarrassing. She confirmed that, like all females, (all females are cats?) she has nine lives. That’s why the she-went-down-the-toilet-drain story doesn’t fit well with me. I mean she can’t be so dead?! Gerrit? Sad! Sometimes you just need to lay on the couch and do nothing for like 3 years.

My plea is: Anyone spots a G-Tide who lost the owner, that’s mine. And don’t expect a reward for such a deed as #BringingBackMyGirl, people should stop expecting a reward for being a decent human being, the sun doesn’t ask for applause when it sets because that’s what it’s supposed to do. Anyone who’s been trying to get to me, i say, “Thank you for calling.”