Its raining, its pouring, and Womilee was snoring. Got up from bed, and scratched his head and he's pissed off in the morning... Na na na na na...My word it is uncivilized to be up this morning. The government should pass a bill stating that on rainy mornings, automatic public holidays should be observed.
Gentlefolk, I want to apologise for my late delivery this morning. As you can imagine, getting up from bed today was not an easily acheiveable task. I got to the office late and for the first time, I'm actually writing from here, not on the way to or from home. Its actually much worse than I anticipated. As always, human beings feel the need to converse with one another, so I am continually hampered by questions, statements and conversations. I generally don't mind these, but it makes it bloody hard to write.
At this very moment, while I'm typing this, a colleague is thrilling me with a story about a friend of hers who went missing last night. While I'm very sorry about her concerns, I haven't had breakfast dammit, thus I care very little.
The tuesday morning meeting held on time, despite the rains, thanks to my boss. Speaking of whom, I have forever ruined our working relationship. I tried to greet him this morning, but when I looked at his face, he had a leather mask on, and his mouth was covered by a zipper. Gentlefolk, be careful what you say in jest, for it may come to pass. I now constantly dread the moment he calls my name, I may answer 'yes mistress'.
Back to the meeting though, there is a rule or should I say a penalty applicable to those who arrive late for these meetings. No matter your excuse for your late arrival, there is a 1000 naira penalty for showing up later than 7.05 for the 7.00 meeting. I came in by 7.40. And trust these bastards, there was someone on hand to write my name and account number down, gleefully anticipating debiting said account of my hard earned money. These people do not know me gentlefolk. I would rather cut off my balls with a rusty spoon than relinquish my cash to them.
So as my name was being jotted down, I smiled, excused myself and headed straight for the ATM machine. My account is now empty. And if these muthas want a grand, they will have to come and prise it from my cold, dead fingers! Its not my damn fault I'm late, blame it on mother nature. Infact isn't there a song about this very situation? "Blame it on the rain, yeah yeah. Blame it on the stars. But whatever you do, ill never give my cash to you", or something like that.
Gentlefolk, I once again apologise for my tardiness, and the brevity of this mornings article. I must rush off to the hotel now, duty calls. Now join me in praying that the CEO's girl is wearing tight jeans again. Duty calls. Till the evening...
I am Womilee.