What keeps me going

Today I did not feel like coming to work. It was drizzling and very cold and I just wanted to keep on sleeping. I kept thinking of excuses I could come up with just so I could skip checking in at the office. All the ideas I came up with were speedily brushed off immediately since none seemed genuine nor convincing enough. So I forced myself out of bed and proceeded to shower.

Now, I have two housemates. Between the three of us, I am the one who wakes up the earliest. While am struggling to get under that shower, they are snoring away. It isn’t the best situation to wake up in I tell you, but I manage it. I always think about the breakfast I was going to have when I got to the office. That’s usually my number one incentive.

My number two incentive is the fact that I always have a book with me to read on the matatu. I usually make a point of having one in my handbag so that whenever am bored I flip a few pages.  But my major incentive is that I have to pay rent at the end of the month.  My job is the only source of income I got, and I cannot afford to screw it all up.

So I wake up each and everyday, regardless of how much I hate it, and get ready to go to the office. It doesn’t matter that I wish I could just stay in bed. When you are employed, what you feel like counts for nothing. Your boss is the one literally running your life. He/She is the one who decides when you wake up and when you can head for home.

That is why I look forward to becoming my own employer someday. A time when I’ll be answerable to no one but myself. When no one will dictate to me when I can go for lunch or when its okay to pick up my phone calls. A time when I won’t be sweating profusely and tightly crossing my fingers when getting to the office whenever I am late.

All these thoughts kept running through my head when I boarded a matatu and started off for town. The man seated next to me didn’t smell so nice and his elbow kept jabbing on my ribs at repeated intervals. I was still sleepy and could hardly keep my eyes open. It was raining pretty heavily by then and I had mud on the soles of my feet. I felt depressed.

The only thing that kept me going was hope. The belief that everything will get better in the future. That no matter how bleak things seemed at the moment, a ray of sunshine would someday shine down on me. And looking at the faces of my fellow passengers, I was probably not the only one who felt like this.