Growing up, I had this dream of becoming
an entrepreneur. U'know, be the owner of my own thing; a very less officious
enterprise that wouldn’t fill my ego with nonsense, one that will allow me to
wear anything to work and without anyone pouring scorn on me, including the
sort of worn backpack I wore to work yesterday and everyone was like: “Hana
denga am game teye?”.
Perhaps that plan was but a dream, something
you get tired of chasing when you live amongst folks who have this ridiculous
tendency of seeing the most evil outcome in every situation, or of viewing
every glass half empty, and out of nothing but pure hard feelings. This is why
I decided to cut the number of friends I had from 43 in 2012 to 11 and a half.
They call it snobbery but I call it crisis management.
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