It has been A WHILE since I last posted here... especially while prompted by anything other than just pure necessity. I have been busy ‘participating’ (References to ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ never grow old.) so I haven’t had much time to muse and ponder. In hindsight I should probably have taken a moment or two to think before plunging and muddling through life... but such is life.
Until just about a fortnight ago I had a whole four month vacation. It was the best time of my life... in such a twisted way. I learnt a lot. For starters, I lost nearly all faith in humanity thanks to this pregnant woman. I re-learnt how to wear my heart on my sleeve and live life with reckless abandon. I turned twenty... and most importantly, I learnt how to do ‘kange’ math.
You know, the kind where the conductor asks you to give him extra coins on top of your fare so that he could return your change in notes... that math. I am always left bewildered trying to crunch up the numbers in my head yet it takes a conductor seconds. Yet yours truly is so confident of her computation skills that she has added ‘plays at being actuary’ on her bio on twitter. Well, I finally know how to do ‘kange’ math, thanks to working at my mom’s shop for the better part of the past four months. I had also been studying for my CT1 Financial Math paper... but I’m still convinced the shop keeping is to blame for making me the mental-math guru you now see (read?)
I suppose I could have set out to ‘change the world’ or ‘save the rhinos’ during my vacation. I should probably have set out to earn some money, seeing as free Wi-Fi is just around the corner and I still haven’t fixed Kyle’s screen. (I feel that this is the point where I add my M-pesa pay bill number at the bottom of the page. C’mon people, what happened to supporting the arts?) Instead, I settled for dishing out bundles of health, packed in ¼, ½ and 1 kg packs of wimbi and mtama flour, to the good people of Kamulu. As it is I am an expert in what ingredients are suitable for making porridge for children of all age groups... an amateur nutritionists of sorts. So, yeah... Baby mamas, baby daddies... if your baby babies get malnutrition, don’t claim that I didn’t publicly offer my services on this blog.
Now I am back to the refreshingly geeky life of a student actuary... one who has to rush to get her ID from a guard who claimed that she was ‘flimsily dressed’ yesterday. Flimsy, really? I suppose some of us still have a long way to go before we can conquer the diverse vocabulary of the English language.
|Yes, in Strath this is flimsy.|