…..Of incoherent speech and thought.
How many people do you know who in the course of one week live to tell a tale of a night at the police station at 3:00am, undercover detective work, a couple of odd propositions, an HIV/AIDS communication plan, all the while doubling as a student in the daytime. I have always had the suspicion that I was paranormal until recently when I had a rude reminder of this:
Doing the work I do requires the clairvoyance of a warlock and I should say here and now the tact of a spy.
The week begins with me trying to trace bags that were supposed to have come in from Heathrow London (sounds like a crappy 90’s movie beginning ,I know.) The airport had mistakenly decided not to include someone’s bags on the flight to Kampala. I am charged on the pain of death to find the bags and deliver them. I have to pull strings so high that I feel the airport is about to declare me anational threat to get the bags but I do. This is all after having an extremely embarrassing situation on Entebbe road in which a woman gets out of her car and prostrates before me; i wonder why. Oh she was in tears too!!
I walk up to this lady… cool accent, great perfume, with a sense of unbeatable self. I tell her:
Me: hi have you noticed that your red hair has brown roots?
Her: Did you just say what i think you said?
Me: what do you think??
And I walk away from her and then drama begins to happen as she realises that her saloonist did a shody job with her hair. i do not want to tell you what happened when she realised that I was messing with her,I still have the marks.
Tie into all of this why i love wearing black and you’ll know why the Blogger’s Happy Hour was a light moment in my week; excruciating as it was. I was nursing a lot of wounded parts and in mournig.
I guess the true proof that I am paranormal is that am writing all of this for you to read.
But kudos to you all!!
May we all live to see eachother die off.(A happy thought)hah?
Till next week