un~DECIDED

Ah!

Five hours to go. There’s still time. I already know what I’m going to wear; I know the shoes that’ll match the pair of jeans, and everything is perfect. I won’t be late this time. I made a promise that I’ll turn a new leaf. The old me is gone, and in five hours; if my math is right, I’ll cook a meal, eat comfortably, cycle slowly, and arrive just in time. Without breaking a sweat. There’s still time.

The path to progress is when you know how to define the problem.

Before I realized I’d morphed into a last-minute man, I never saw it as problematic. No one keeps time these days. You call a friend to meet up, and you get there earlier than a bird at dawn; waiting for the worm, and they show up late – most of the time – acting like nothing is wrong. The nerve; but a few times of such experiences make good apples start to rot at the bottom of the basket.

Well, no more. I’ll be the healthy apple moving forward.

One thing I’ve learned is never to change oneself because other people are doing bad things to me. It’s not worth it. If they are going to arrive late, I won’t. I’m changed now, and that’s why I need to start thinking about what I’ll eat – I hadn’t included that part in the list of ‘Things to do before leaving’ – eating always comes last.

Not that I want to – who wants to welcome hunger? – it’s just that knowing what to eat – or cook in this case – is one of the hardest tasks on earth. Where do I start? Each time I think about food, the options rushing to my mind are recent meals. I can’t keep recycling rice and spaghetti every 12 hours. It’s not healthy and that’s the next thing I’ll change about myself after I succeed in wiping lateness from the face of my earth – personal growth is the theme here!

I’ve eaten rice enough times. I can’t eat anything ‘wheat’; and I don’t feel like putting ground maize in my mouth. What will I eat?

There’s this study I read about taking showers. I can’t believe there were people actively choosing to participate in a study where they don’t take a shower. Deliberately. It can’t be true, can it? Who in their right mind chooses not to shower? Such studies make me wonder if the study took place, to begin with. Who subscribes to these things – or did they pick homeless people and told them to do what they do best – then come around saying participants were ‘chosen at random in Los Angeles’? There’s something these guys aren’t telling us, but the point is; they discovered that taking a bath every day is bad for the skin and overall health. I wish I participated in that study – just to make sure it’s true.

Anyway, if I leave now and go find something to eat, I’ll make it back in time to cook and take a shower. Today isn’t one of those I’d want to save water too. The planet is suffering, I know. But I have to smell nice. It’s her graduation ceremony for crying out loud. I remember how that feels like; meeting special people on your special day. On my graduation, I had to buy new clothes. Special times seek special things.

I wasn’t interested in suits – still not – but I got a pair of jeans; shoes, a t-shirt, and ‘walla!’ I became handsome. Just like that!

I need to dress well and smell nice. She’ll love it.  

And I think that cologne still exists – there’s something still left in that tiny glass thing, though I’m not sure – but if it does: all eyes on me! Otherwise, it’s good I bought a bottle of creamy body lotion recently. I’d missed how the skin glistens when oil is applied.

The problem with taking a shower at night is just that; you never see the point of applying oil, and when it runs out; the only time you remember you need to apply oil is on days like these; important dates that prompt taking a shower during the day.

So yes, if I leave now, go buy groceries and come back in what: thirty minutes? I’ll still have time to cook, prepare, and get to that ceremony. I wonder who’s also invited.

Mary has a habit of telling everyone to join her when celebrating special moments of her life. We could be a community of spectators there, and I don’t think I’ll pop in that pair of jeans either. It’s faded around the thighs and at the ankles. What other options do I have; a pair of shorts?

 No. I can’t wear shorts. I don’t know if they’re official – authentic – whatever. People don’t wear shorts to graduation ceremonies. Shorts are worn when going to the beach or something.

 No shorts.

But I’ve never worn my high-top Nike sneakers; they’re still brand new. High-top sneakers go well with shorts; especially that one that looks like sweatpants cut in half. If I wear that with the vertically striped shirt; these shoes will compliment my look perfectly; they’ve block colors,  black and white, and the stripes on the shirt have a dominating black and white somewhere. That should make the white outlines around the pockets of that black short pop more than ever.

Elegance in simplicity.

I’ll wear shorts. Now, how much time do I have?

No way! Four hours!?

Okay, um, what am I going to eat? Real quick!

The plan is to buy onions … tomatoes, and … what next? Since I’ll be cycling, I need something heavy, otherwise, I’ll be hungry for the rest of the day. I can’t bank on the food she’ll be providing for her guests. I know how these things work. You guys arrive, and food is there but very little. Sooner than later, drinking and partying start, and I cannot party with an empty stomach – we know how those other things go.

But is it a must, to begin with? Must I party after the ceremony? I think I’m getting too old for that life. I just need to show up; that’s what lovers do. Partying is always a matter of choice. Besides, what I’m I going to do; talk to people?

There are all younger, and I’m not sure if we’ll find common ground. Right now, their blood is boiling with fun and partying. Opening my mouth will make me the guy they ‘boo’ at parties. Except for words of encouragement and motivation, I have no fun content.

Besides, I can’t afford to be a motivational speaker; not to them. That’s social suicide for us both. I have no friends there, so, no partying.

But what reason will I give; should I say I have work?

I’m tired after being engaged at work – it’s still morning though – or, what if I say, I’ve been working all night? That’s a better version. A better white lie. No, I won’t be lying either. I stayed up late last night. Two in the morning should be categorized under ‘staying up all night’. How many hours do we have until first light? Three? That’s not a lie.

She’ll appreciate my time. It’s not that I won't show up. It'll be a polite no to the afterparty. That’s not in my place. Besides, I’m being responsible; win-win for everybody. Being drunk can bring problems and we’re just starting this relationship thing – argh! She’ll understand.

Three hours and fifteen minutes left.

Run for groceries in fifteen minutes; cook in thirty minutes and that’s forty-five minutes. There’s still time. Apparently, adding an hour to accommodate emergencies is handy though I don’t understand why it’s this hard deciding what to cook. If I don’t make up my mind as early as now, I’ll have no time to cook, and that’s the truth. I’ve seen it happen more times than I can count.

Groceries, half-cooked beans, and – what can you eat with beans? – and not wheat; the past few days you’ve been eating wheat back-to-back. Rice isn’t an option too. Argh!

Oh, if I buy githeri, that’s a meal on its own. I won’t break a sweat cooking either – I’ll put everything in one basket and hope my eggs don’t break. It always turns out great mixing everything in the pot and leaving it to cook.

But then, given the problem we’re facing, where will I find someone who’s cooked it at this time of the day? If I go to Junction Plaza, I’m not sure Maggie’s has opened yet: Doors open at eleven and we’re thirty minutes away. Maybe I should give myself a head start; arrive in thirty minutes – or so. But that’s far. What about my return journey? I’ll be late.

What other options do have? Cards under my sleeves should start flying in as early as now.

Wait, is that pair of shorts even clean? I can’t afford to show up dirty. She’s the best thing to happen to me, and I’ll be screaming irresponsibly in her face when I show up with dirty clothes. I had a whole month to prepare! There’s no reason to weasel out of that pond. I cannot be that guy. Facts!

Now before I go, arise from this seat, I need to know exactly what I’ll be doing; in order. First, I’ll go check the pair of shorts if they’re clean, then go take the shopping bag, and leave immediately. If the pair of shorts are dirty, I’ll have to think of another outfit along the way. I can’t afford to waste more time.

Change. I’d decided to change and be a latecomer no more. Where did that resolution go? What have I been doing anyway? All this time thinking and rethinking without doing anything feels like I’m slowly drifting to my old ways. I’ll be late if I don’t take action now. It’s that critical.

In fact, there’s nothing I can accomplish in under three hours. Finding food and cooking already takes an hour. And I cannot make it there in two hours. That’s a stretch, even for me, and when I do, I’ll arrive sweating. Unless I take public transport – which is only a greater problem because I’ll have to walk. I don’t want to walk to the venue.

I have to leave now. There is no time. But I’ll take my bicycle.

Where’s this pair of shorts?!

“Are you still coming? I don’t see you on the seat I reserved for you!”

I’M LATE. Let me go. Damn it!!