Sunday,


but too much to do to be lazy.

My weekend so far has been full of diverse activities. I’m lovin’ it. I got an early start yesterday—beginning with a yummy, homemade pancake breakfast; and including everything thing from money transfers, photo developing, an embassy rummage sale, washing my whites—and I didn’t make it to (my own) bed (alone) until 4:30am! It was a fun night. The Uganda Cranes finally didn’t disappoint their fans and defeated the Nigerian football team, and last night was a night of celebration around Kampala. I was on Kampala Road when the supporters made their way back into town from Namboole on the back of boda-bodas tooting on their yellow plastic horns. The screech of whistles was on-going; traffic police didn’t stand a chance in the excitement. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve inherited many of my fathers preferences and dislikes. As infectious as the enthusiasm of the revellers was, the crowd and commotion made me nervous. I was the proverbial long-tailed cat, and the party downtown was my room full of rocking chairs. I quickly made it to the restaurant where some of my friends were meeting for dinner.

I had planned an early night, and was making my way home at 12, but I was intercepted on Bandali Rise by two friends I had not seen in several weeks. Of course that means I climbed into the backseat of the car and was off to Kololo and several hours more of a good time. Despite all the noise and the crowds, I really enjoyed the next four hours. Surprisingly, some good conversations were had with a few drinks and some dancing.

Sunday morning: I got up when planned. 11:30. Feeling great. I really like a good breakfast, so I try to cook at least one big one on the weekends. It’s always better when there is someone to share it with. I plan to make a good pot of soup later today. Fingers are crossed for uninterrupted electricity.

I’ve taken advantage of the early afternoon to get into a new book: A Short History of Tractors in Ukranian. When I first saw it on the shelf at Aristoc, the name drew me to it. I opened the book and read the first paragraph: Two years after my mother died, my father fell in love with a glamorous blonde Ukranian divorcee. He was eighty-four and she was thirty-six. She exploded into our lives like a fluffy pink grenade… I was hooked. Who could say ‘no’ to a book that starts off like that? I just didn’t have the 24,500 shillings to buy the book that day, so I convinced a friend that it was a must-read. She bought it, and it’s been passed on to me.

I really have so much to do that I do not want to do. I’ve go reports to write for school. I have five more to do. They are due on Friday, but I want to break my habit of procrastination, so I want to get as many finished today as I can. You can tell how much I want to get them done. I’m making this post, using my brain juices, when I could be describing how well so and so’s understands and is able to apply the conept of fair test. I’ll never finish something I don’t begin.

I hand-washed two big towels today. I'm gonna be sporting two massive forearms if I keep this up. That should be the maximum amount of work anyone is allowed to do on a Sunday.