Happily Ever After

Its been a long week. My first week back to work since my wedding two Saturdays ago. I would've posted pix but, nah. I prefer to remain anonymous. Married life is so so, and not all its cracked up to be (just like every other thing: sex, cigarettes, booze, etc). I do like the living together part. The cooking is a drag though, I shall start being a good wife and make breakfast every morning as from next week, so help me God. Thats not easy because, I have to leave home at 6:30am. He usually is in the mood at 4:00am and, I'm one of those women who fall asleep immediately afterwards. An hour's sleep is barely enough rest for me to get through the day. I take a long time waking up too. End result: I usually rush out of bed, get dressed and leave for work in 30 minutes and DH has to drink coffee for breakfast. He hasn't complained, yet, but I want to be a good wife.

There's this freedom I feel, unlike before when I avoided the neighbors. Not the Desperate housewife Susan Meyer kind of avoidance, but I just kept my distance because good fences build good neighbors and I didn't want to end up being the subject of gossip. Now, I have to make friends with them so I can have people to show off my wedding album and video to.

Anyhow, personally, deep inside myself, I don't feel any different than I did before the wedding. I don't love him more (or less for that matter), I don't feel as if I've accomplished a major life goal. I feel like me. How long does it take for the change in feeling to come, I wonder.

My father's daughter

This was a post I had wanted to make a few days to my wedding day:


I have spent a lot of time with my father this week. Its bringing back memories that I don't want to have and making me depressed. Me and my Dad used to be really close before I became a teenager. I was indisputably not his favorite kid (that was my sister, difference being that she was the protected one) but I was the one always trusted with taking care of everybody else. I was the enigma that he respected. Really, whenever I had something to say, the man listened. He asked my opinion about almost anything, including his business. I decided his business name over 20 years ago, chose th location for the business, decided we should move to Nigeria from the US, and a host of other things. My decision often over rode my mother's and it took me a while to understand why she took that so personally (after all, I was her daughter) I thought I was lucky and that someone must've told him I was a prophet or something of sorts. We began falling out when I became a teenager and in my late teens, we developed this civil relationship that wasn't cold, but all the same wasn't all that warm.

I came home ten days ago for my wedding and me and the man are bonding so much it frightens me. We leave together in the morning and come back home in the evening. Its making me feel funny. I am feeling so sorry for all those years we could've remained friends and for some reason weren't. Ah well, that's one of many tales of fathers and their daughters.