There is something incredibly awesome about Tuesdays. I don’t know about you but for me, everything always seems to fall in place on Tuesdays. I always wake up feeling re-energized. With Monday blues kicked to the curb, my productivity levels are usually at an all-time high. Tuesdays come with a healthy surge of positivity and optimism. Unlike other days (note Wednesdays), I don’t even struggle to pick what to wear on this day. I guess my mind’s cloth selector is usually at its optimum on Tuesdays.

I love Tuesdays because they are so cool, that even my makeup miraculously sits well on my face (that dewy natural look kinda vibes yaaaasss). I speak as a person who can wipe makeup off her face a couple of times before deciding to go without makeup. Even the weather is usually better on Tuesdays. Heck! I post on my blog on Tuesdays! If Tuesday was a song it would definitely be Natasha Bedingfield’s Pocketful of Sunshine or Pharell’s Happy. If it was a person, it would be my small brother, always full of life and overfed with hapiness. I bet that most couples end fights, reconcile and have make up sex on Tuesdays. This day is the bomb!

Just like the others, this Tuesday morning was also cool. I mean, my morning commute to work was not bad considering that I seem to have a penchant for the most dramatic busses. Matatu drama always seems to follow me like a bad decision. I board a matatu as a hardworking citizen and boom! Some crazy sh*t just decides to go down, a crazy conda, or a nosy neighbor, a weird matatu preacher or all the above! At least it is entertaining at times. (Thank God the prophetess said that this is the year I will buy a car. This is the 3rd year in a row that she has made this prophesy but never let the hope die, right?).

Anyway, I boarded a silent KBS bus, I had hoped for some Patanisho on radio but silence was still cool. The tall and loud conda had hiked the fare by Ksh 20 and for that reason, I wish him constipation for the next two weeks. You think we pluck money off trees or something huh?

The silence allowed to me read Biko Zulu’s book Thursdays in peace. I bought this book on the day of the launch (wapi makofi ya mafans?), but decided to read it after finishing all the books I had bought before it. Plus I was kinda saving the best for last. You know like eating all the rice and saving the meat kinda sh*t? Yeah. That one.

The last pages of Chapter 13 had a short father-daughter moment where a father was advising his daughter to not give up on her dreams. The father went on to tell her of his struggles when chasing his dream and at that point I was like “No Biko! You don’t do this to me right now! Such sh*t triggers me! You can’t just remind me of my late old man. Not on a Tuesday. Not after I did my make up so perfectly! Not after I just drank a smoothie for breakfast. I am trying to be healthy and sh*t!”

Here is the thing, when you lose a loved one, not only does a part of you die, but you get new triggers. After the death of my dad, my trigger became father-child moments, whether in a book or a movie or real life. They trigger my tear glands like you have no idea. And the fact that I have always been a cry baby anyway, doesn’t help. My father was a wise man. He gave sound advice. Every single time I ran to him with my quarter life crisis episodes, he would always put himself in my shoes.

I lost count of the number of times he told me to go and kick major butt because he didn’t raise a quitter. The number of times he told me to take charge of my happiness. The times he hugged me and called me ‘Auntie’ (I was named after his favorite aunt). And little trigger made me cry on Tuesday morning. Of all days!! At least I tried to cry up so as to not ruin my makeup, nilistragoooooo! I need to watch more episodes of Keeping Up With the Kardashians in order to learn how to cry up. Ain’t no way I am messing my dewy look Tuesday morning makeup again.

The guy seated next to me the tapped my shoulder and asked me if I was OK and I managed to respond “Sir thanks for your concern, we are in the middle of a pandemic.”

If you are reading this post and you are lucky to have an amazing father who is alive, then pick up that phone now, call your old man and remind him of the amazing father he is. Even go ahead and make it a habit to remind him of the same every Tuesday without fail. Deal?

And because I am still yet to get over the current massive crush I have on Jay-Z, today’s quote is still by Jay-Z. This is the last Jay-Z lyric I am posting guys, (or not hihihi!)

Have a happy week.

My Baby Blue, I dream in color