So, it happened that Monsieur Gauthier was out on a two-day trip and yours faithfully and Mira were practically as free as birds.
You know what they say—when the cat’s away, the mice play. And o, did we play! Lol. Of course we weren’t entirely idle and work free. We still had mails to respond to and documents to rearrange and file. But in the whole, we had a lot of free hours at hand and we did whatever and everything with ‘em free hours. We lounged around the office, chitchatting about every subject under the sun and we made sure the television hanging on the wall of our office was switched permanently from its usual CNN or Aljazeera News channels to movie channels. It was a non-stop two days fun for us and we went at it like two prisoners let out briefly from their cells.
So, we were inside our office, eating our lunch, a little before lunch time. The television was turned on to Telemundo but we weren’t exactly watching the Spanish soap showing at that moment. It was our last day of freedom and fun and we’d been chatting off the hook all day.
“I don’t feel like Luke is the right man for you.” Mira was saying now.
Wow! I can’t believe it, it’s a new year. We are in 2015, yay!
Happy New Year, everyone and hope you are feeling as hyper as I am about the New Year? I always enter every New Year in the jolliest spirit. No matter what’s happening in my life, however bad the situation, I always toss them all aside and brim into a brand new year.
So, Luke was in town for the Christmas hols, his off-shore break coincided with the Yuletide. He called me and invited me over to spend Christmas day with him at his apartment. I said a big NO!
Okay, I didn’t say it like that. I mean I didn’t scream—NO!—that would be counter-productive. Our aim—PJ’s and mine—is to keep him off the scent and still in his fool’s paradise while I nose out what the true situation is. So, it wasn’t a big, rude No like I wanted. It was a sweet-voiced, tenderly cooed baby-I’m-so-sorry-I-can’t kinda No. And as is expected, he coaxed and pleaded, but I was sweetly firm. No means No.
Read For better, For worse here and here
Hey guys, how y’ all doing?
Actually I have nothing for you guys today. No new event, no gist.
Luke and I spoke almost through the night… but that’s not news, we do that often these days since he went back to the rig.
It was clean-up day in the yard today, but that’s also not news since every last was a clean-up day according to the law of my landlord. The randy, old fella wasn’t around, so what would have been gist didn’t happen.
Let me just say, the old man is a regular Lothario. I’ll tell you all about that on a different day when something new happens and I’m not too laid back to type.
Read For better, For Worse
Hey guys, I’m back from work. Have tossed off my professional-girl trousers suit and kicked off my shoes, had my dinner of fried plantain, eggs and a chilled bottle of fanta and now settled in front of my laptop to give you the download of today’s events.
Anything spectacular happen today? Heck no! It was dull, dull, dull. My boss is on a casual leave—which means he’s away for two weeks. He’ll be back next week Monday, and that simply means less work for me.
Now let’s shine a little light on what I do. First and foremost, I’m a French honours graduate from the University of Benin, with a diploma from the Speedwriting International Secretarial School, Lagos. So, you might say that I’m a professionally trained Bilingual Secretary… which is what I am at the French owned company where I started work about a month ago.
Now don’t let the title French-owned get your imagination going hyperactive, it’s just a medium-rate oil and gas company and they are not even paying me the big bucks, or any other Nigerian for that matter. The real money is always saved for the expatriates.
EPISODES: TWO – THREE – FOUR – FIVE – SIX – SEVEN – EIGHT – NINE – TEN – ELEVEN – TWELVE – THIRTEEN – FOURTEEN – FIFTEEN – SIXTEEN – SEVENTEEN – EIGHTEEN – NINETEEN – TWENTY – TWENTY-ONE – TWENTY-TWO – TWENTY-THREE – TWENTY-FOUR – TWENTY-FIVE – TWENTY-SIX – TWENTY-SEVEN – TWENTY-EIGHT– TWENTY-NINE – THIRTY.
Hiya peeps, this is my diary you are reading.
Now I really thought hard, and wide, about what to call this diary. I went from, ‘life of a cheeky Naija babe’, since everything and anything Naija is en vogue, to ‘hanging out with Kez’ and then to ‘Kez’s little world’ and then to ‘Kiss and tell with Kezzie’… not that I’ve ever been called Kezzie.
Well, none of them seemed to work for me because behind my snazzy, spicy, sultry anterior, I’m just your regular girl next door, so I decided for the simple, completely mundane – Keziah’s diary. So, that established, let’s take it from the top. Continue reading