Breaking New Grounds

It’s almost 24 hours since I left the humble abode of what I used to call home. It’s funny if you asked me that I still tagged you along even though everything around me is new. I can’t stand the taste of food, I feel all alone and a stranger especially considering I can’t answer a greeting in the local dialect. Not a day has elapsed and here i am missing the comfort of home, longing for bongo music, missing the escapades of presumably mad men and women on the streets, the rewarding long chats with the apple of my eye, the soothing music of my kind. Am surely all alone with only you to converse with. I find it hard or rather interesting that I would have to put up with this new place for a whole 14 days!

The day started on a rather high note, full of expectations and with a burning desire to prove myself. Certainly, I had not prepared myself for the kind of power that I acquired today. It’s like I have climbed to the top of the food chain. Am expected to offer solutions, to give directions, to forecast, analyze the market, prepare eye catchy and intellectual reports and report to various bosses from various parts of the world. I even have a secretary to help me with this rather arduous task. For a person of my age, with a humble education so to speak, this was supposed to be the icing on the cake, the ultimate achievement, the stuff that success and achievement is made of. But alas! Am unmoved, bored so to speak and aloof to cap it all.

I realize that I have a better calling than having young men and women who do not even know where I am coming from addressing me with so much respect. Deep down they wish they could be where I am; in such a position of influence. However, what bothers me dear diary is whether I will be able to hold my life together. If you are wondering what am referring to by “my life”, am talking about my love life. Apparently, it’s the sole driving force in my life, the realization that you have this one person who has got your back, who gives you the reason to face every single day. In those difficult days during training, juggling between corporate excellence and succeeding in private business, she was the shoulder to cry on, the woman of substance who put a smile on my face, massaged my ego at times (as if I don’t like it*wink*) and made me realize how happy I am.

I left without proper good bye and right now am empty. I don’t know if I can keep up with this solitude, the feeling of emptiness, the desire to be with her, to hear her encouragement, smell her perfume, and hold her in my arms. It’s like she is what is keeping me from being insane. Either way, I know the thought of her makes me look forward to a better tomorrow, to work hard “for the boys” as she likes to put. To sum it all up, am stuck with you dear diary. You will be my mistress, my dependable companion, my shoulder to cry on, a friend and so many things. Back to my new life here, I find myself in unfamiliar grounds. All of a sudden, I have to look over my shoulders. I have to wear suits because apparently I must lead by example.

Am expected to walk the talk and lead by example. If I frown against lateness, clumsiness or penchant for substandard work am expected to be meticulous, to lead the way. Quite frankly, I come from an environment where the dress code is not much of an issue. However, I need to learn first that am no longer that rookie, that greenhorn, that nobody with dingy desk behind the company premises. Am now the face of this small but promising organization. In the midst of all these, am happy to be alive dear diary, to live for something, to be driven by something much more than myself, and to have great memories to keep me company. In the end of it all, having the love, the friendship, the support of *Kimale* is all that matters. I rest my case for the day dear diary. Till tomorrow, it was nice talking to you