Birthday Blues and Green Eyes

Hallo!

(Side note, how do you start letters? My primary school English teacher would be ashamed of me right now, but ‘Dear –’ doesn’t cut it for me.)

It’s my birthday soon, I’m turning 23 and like every birthday like the one before, the birthday blues are hitting me. When I was a kid, I had a plan for my life - I’d have an MFA by this age, and be working towards an MBA. I did not account for living in Nigeria, and how this country takes and takes and takes so much from you - your plans, your will to live, and everything in between. 

A couple of days ago, I saw an Australian with an MFA at the 23, and I descended into a pit of madness. “Where is my MFA?” I cried out to the universe. It’s a humbling thing to know that the child you were would look with scepticism at the adult you are now. 

I like Jason Todd a lot, apart from the fact that he’s a cutie with a patch of white hair, his devolving into Red Hood is very relatable. I’m not sure about dying at the hands of the Joker, but coming out of a haze and realising that who you were in childhood is gone, and who you are now is a different person. 

Like Jason, I frequently have green eyes, though mine are from jealousy, not the Lazarus Pit. I’m jealous of the people who have their lives together, I am jealous of the people my age who live in functional societies, I am jealous of the trust fund babies and the easy path they have through life.

Sometimes I use that jealousy to fuel me through life, putting it in my tank and running on it to work harder, go further, go faster. But sometimes, it makes me rage in the comfort of my room, wondering about the unfairness of it all, wondering if I’d ever make it when I’m at a negative 3 deficit against life. I have accepted it that life is what you make of it, as unfair as you may feel it is, the truth is - nobody really cares like that. Or, to be less pessimistic, people care, but not at the expense of their lives. Your life is well and truly in your hands. 

I wrestle with that a lot; the weight of the responsibility, though I am no stranger to responsibility. Still, there is something to be said when you see the results of the actions taken/not taken in other people’s lives, and it fully dawns on you that if you fuck up, it’s really on you, and no one else.

I’ve been reading - 

https://review.firstround.com/great-startups-deserve-great-brands-build-a-strong-foundation-by-avoiding-these-mistakes/ 

Very work-related but my life is work these days. First Round is a VC fund that gives funding to startups. They have a podcast called In Depth where they interview people who have built companies, my favorite episode so far is the one with a marketer who worked at Google. 

On non-work stuff, I’ve been reading A Traveling Pantry, recommended by Fu’ad Lawal to one of my colleagues during All Hands. But I’m an amebo so I took the link to read for myself too. 

I’ve been listening to - 

The only thing that’s been playing in my head since I woke up has been the BBL Drizzy sound. I’m so sorry to Aubrey and all of his fans but Metro outsourcing the diss is a genius PR move and it makes me giggle.

I hung out with my friends last week, and there’s a video of us goofing around to -

It’s one of those things where a song is now one of your favorites because of the memory associated with it. 

And it’s a wrap folks! Have a good week.

Cheers,

Zia.

P.S. - Still experimenting with the format I want this letter to take these days. 

P.P.S. - I was going to take leave for my birthday, only for my lead to announce that we’re launching something that week, join me as I cry as I work on my birthday for the third year in a row.