I’m surviving on nightly dinners at mama africa, copious amounts of coffee and chocolate. way too much chocolate. I am trying to work harder, I am working harder. I am searching for other outlets and other ways. I wish the day had more hours, because I am actually one of those luckier people who like their full time job. but full time is not all I want and it is definitely not enough. as an outlet, as a creative force in my life. it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, but mustering the energy to reach beyond that – I am not sure if I have it.
unusually, the boy had to leave the house earlier than me yesterday. he kissed me before he left, but I was still sleeping. I woke up to a prepared cup of coffee with all the correct rations; all I had to do was pour the hot water. afternoon shift now seems to be the better option, I have more time for other things. for piles of laundry and the sink full of dishes. I have time to put coconut oil in my hair and wait for it to absorb without having to check the time too often. the boy waited for me in central, before I started my shift. a cup of coffee in his hand. this is for you, I think you need a second one today. it’s the small things, really, that can keep a relationship alive. that keep us alive.
later on, in the evening, we watched 12 years a slave. inspired by the oscar winners and speeches, I wanted to see it. I knew it was going to be tough, but I was nervous. more nervous than I was with django and mandela combined. it made me think of something I’d been meaning to write about, but was honestly too scared. what’s it like being in a mixed-race relationship and when you go together to watch a film about the worst of slavery. it’s such a huge and difficult subject, but it affects us as well. we would never admit it, of course, but I felt as if something changed a little bit. at least for a while, before we remembered again that the times have changed and we are living a different life now.