Thoughts, on turning thir…cough! cough! cough! Excuse me.

I am still looking for where I mislaid my original nose, but it’s okay. I’m sure wherever it is, my pre-pregnancy waistline is keeping it company.

Piña Colada can be a breakfast drink if you have it with eggs. And you don’t drive. On that note, it is perfectly fine to be a bit buzzed at school run. Just don’t try to make conversation. That thing you think is so hilarious probably isn’t. You’re buzzed. Go home.

Writing is the best gig ever!

Writing is the worst gig ever.

I don’t shave my legs. Deal with it.

Ditto armpits. Yes, I realise our friendship may now be in jeopardy.

These are my parents:

My dad likes having his picture taken.

My mum hates having her picture taken.

I feel I have been smarter than I currently am. But I have never been poorer than I currently am. Both things can be fixed, which means I am very lucky.

I hope to not be living in this country next year because I am a bit tired and there is a whole lot of world to see. However, I will miss the NHS.

Save the NHS!

Why is IS destroying everything?!!

I’d like to build my house from mud. Like those mosques in Djenne. Or like our ancestors’ houses. I already have an architect.

I really like the name Mehitobel and have been wanting to give it to a character. Except she’s a demon, my character.

I wish I had spare robotic eyes that I could switch my human eyes out with so that I can read all the books I want and never have to sleep ever.

I inherited my grandma’s glasses. She had all her teeth. I should have asked to get those too. Clone myself a little baby Mama Onitsha.

I’ve been working on a story for three days. I finished it yesterday. Now I have two stories.

HAHAHA.

HOHOHO.

Where’s my jumper? Oh no.

Cheers to the frickin’ weekend.

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