I have to admit, the major reason I have not written in what seemed like a short while to me but is actually very many months( I would use ‘years’, but abeg I’m not trying to complicate this matter) is over-thinking.
Many times, really many times, I took a pen and a book and started writing down something I wanted to post, but it was only a matter of seconds before my brain got clogged with too many ideas and I somehow convinced myself that the ideas did not make sense. Just like that, many ideas were murdered even before they became posts that anyone got to read.
One of such occasions, was an evening in September 2015. I had just gotten home from sewing lessons. I was bent on eating one of these small chops that go well with coconut (very likely boiled corn, bread or Ijebu garri) even though every one else in the house was having wheat and okro soup for dinner. This meant that I had to remove the husk myself which, back in the day, when my house was still a boys’ quarters, would have been done by one of the boys. So, this brilliant (so I thought) idea of relating the coconut to our now almost empty house popped up. I had figured it all out already; from talking about those days when one could very rarely find a mature coconut hanging on the tree because my brothers, cousins, brothers’ friends, cousins’friends, or even brothers’friends’cousins would have plucked the thing and made a big bowl of garri and diced coconut for anyone interested; to whining about these days when the coconuts now mature, dry and even start germinating on the tree because honestly, the only three people in the house, Paddyman, Paddywoman and Ngozi, are too busy with their various hustles to remember coconuts exist. Anyway, I never got to write it, because I thought, ” what’s the conne between coconut tree and my family”?
My friend, Bimbs told me last year, that I’m a near-perfectionist which is quite true and I have come to realize is mostly a negative thing, I’ll tell you how. Very often, I have a mental picture of something, but once I see it not turning out how I planned, I abandon it. Totally. Sadly, it applies to almost every area in my life and is very likely the reason I stopped the ready-to-wear ankara business I sold my Blackberry Bold 5 to start last year. I had been very excited about it, but once the clothes were ready, people weren’t buying as i thought they would so I packed the clothes and threw them in a corner of my room. I still have shorts (UK size 6) for sale, and at an affordable price, incase you are interested.
Until you can be paid for it, there’s no use thinking problems into existence. But, imagine a world where you could just call a company and pay them to help you think sha! Let me stop here before I discard this post too biko.