Part Eleven
I want to go home. I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I wanna go home!
There’s just one problem. I am home. Or as close to it as I’ll be getting.
I want to go back to the home where I was a pampered little darling, where I knew nothing of the world and its cruelty, where I always had at least one person to run to with the problems that hurt my heart.
Where S and I were the kind of sisters who’d actually spend time with one another without it turning into a screaming match.
I miss…
I miss people who are right in front of me. I miss the past.
I miss me in the past. That girl didn’t know how good she had it.
Can’t go back though. Not with all the money in the world. Past is past and laid to rest.
–
I have keyboard keys imprinted onto my face. S is hugely proud of me – she thinks I fell asleep working overtime. She still doesn’t know just how little I’ve been doing all day. Which, speaking of, I think I’ve figured out why S’s ‘friend’ gave me a job. Don’t be too proud, they were basically broadcasting it.
Seeing the two of them struggling to form sentences and especially seeing S turn into a lovely, overripe tomato was a honking great clue. I can’t believe she’s falling for someone!
Well, no, I can. It’s S. She falls in love at the drop of a hat. I can’t believe that she’s falling for Mr. Brick over there. He barely talks, it’s so boring. S likes charm – or she did, at least.
Maybe even that’s changed. I wouldn’t know, I try not to stay too close these days. It’s like an alarm blares in her brain if I settle in and she immediately begins to lecture. It’s so damn boring. I usually end up declaring I have to visit the loo and stay in there scrolling on my phone for a half hour. Last time I came out with elbow prints on my thighs. That can’t be healthy.
I have watched half the cat videos on the internet. I’m not bored, of course. Kittens cannot be boring. But I’m beginning to have the nagging feeling that this can’t be healthy.
I’m going to end up overdosing or something. It’ll be truly tragic.
It’s insane and terrible, but I’m actually craving some kind of task to do. Me. The Queen of Laziness.
Is it snowing in Hell yet?
I’m bored. I’m bored. I’m booooooored.
I’m gonna go get a snack. Maybe I should be artistic and arrange it so I can take a photo even.
.
.
.
Nah. I’m not that bored. Yet.
–
I bothered Soph at work for almost an hour. I’d feel bad, but it was her lunch hour which she usually works through so really, I was performing a service. I should reward myself with a cupcake.
Soph, the sweetest girl in the world, is mad at my ex-boss. She couldn’t find one excuse to find him a way out of being a giant… well, she called him a jerk – I used a much harsher word. To me? That’s a nice, clear validator that I’m not the cow in this situation. I wish I could just point Soph in the direction of my sister and have her defend me. Maybe it would make the constant Hurricane-lectures stop…
But I could never do that to Soph. My sister would eat her alive.
I finished that conversation feeling worse for Soph than myself. She’s taking the brunt of the nonsense now that I’m not there to be a more challenging target and – being Soph – it’s making her sad about herself.
Soph should be the one to have this useless, well paying job. She’d end up running around between people’s offices and cheering them up like a tiny magic therapist fairy.
That girl is living proof that even the nicest people get screwed. She should be living in the lap of luxury, being treated like a princess and protected from the ugly stuff but instead, she’s all by herself. I’ve got S – and kind of Dad and the rest of the family – but Soph just has leeches. People constantly take advantage of her and she falls for it.
Her ‘family’ kept her gullible for a reason. To take advantage of her and make her a modern-day Cinderella. If I believed in romance and happily ever afters, I’d be waiting for Soph’s life to turn into sparkly, shiny unicorn farts.
Truth is there’s no such thing as a happy ending. I should know, I thought I’d gotten mine. But then life kept going. Because that’s what life does. It continues until you die and there’s no pause button. No save point or rewind either.
Oh! My boss actually wants me to do something. Maybe he dropped a pen and needs it picked up?
Sigh. I can feel my brain cells decaying,.
Seriously, I have the worst headache right now.
He wanted me to book a flight! And I did it, too. It’s ridiculous that I’m this excited about online shopping for someone else.
Know what’s worse? I used to hate being told to do this kind of thing by my old boss. It had nothing to do with my job, it wasn’t part of my actual duties, and it made me feel like a slave.
Now I’m excited about it. Earnestly excited. I nearly said ‘yay’, out loud.
Oh, God, what’s happening to me? I’m turning into an idiot.
I need to go buy some books. About science. And math.
Uh oh. Turns out I’ve been talking out loud while typing.
In my defence, I was consumed by the terrifying idea that I was losing my marbles. It’s what caused me to act like I truly was – ugh, I can’t say that.
…and I’m keeping the guy waiting. Gotta go! Bye, uh, diary? I guess that’s what this mess is.
The Imperfect Muslimah 