Work and Play
Does life have a sense of irony or what.
You ask for a drop of water in a drought and instead, you get a flood. You ask for a grain of rice in a famine and instead, you not only get a good crop yield that year but also First World nations dumping their agricultural surplus on you on the pretext of "foreign aid" thereby killing the livelihood of your local farmers.
I know. I should stop beating about the bush and get to my point.
Well, just a few months ago, I was imploring God to give me more work to do because I was bored witless.
God not only heard my prayers but He decided to dump a motherload on me as well.
So I couldn’t have chosen a better (or worse) time for an island retreat than now. This weekend, I’m packing my bags and leaving the smog of the city for clear blue skies, warm sunshine and cool sea breezes.
I planned this trip like a month ago so it looks like I’ll just have to push aside all thought of looming deadlines and upcoming events. Of course, I’ll have a million things to do when I get back.
But they can wait.
For now, I’m just going to focus on the trip. Think about what to pack. I think I can fit an entire weekend’s clothing into my handbag. Who needs anything more than a bikini, boardshorts and flip flops? And sunblock with SPF 5000, of course, if you have as little melanin as me.
I’m fighting this great urge to bring my laptop along. You can leave me stranded on an deserted island, I always say, but just make sure it has WiFi. I’m so tech-dependent it’s terrible.
But I’ve decided it’s going to be one of those lazy trips where I’ll just lie on the beach and soak up the sun like a plant in photosynthesis. Cool off in the water when it gets too hot. Sun again. Cool, sun and repeat. The most strenuous thing I’ll attempt is lifting a can of ice cold beer to my lips.
That’s the life, man.
I can’t decide what I prefer. The fast-paced, all-action city life. Or the idyllic bliss of living on an island. Do I really enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer? Or do I need the trappings of material comforts? Do I favour sipping coconut water by the beach or tossing back martinis at a posh bar? Would I rather have the carefree simplicity of zipping around on a tuk-tuk or the luxury of navigating through traffic in a Beemer? Is it ever possible to have the best of both worlds?
It’s a tricky one. I think I’ll have to mull this one over cocktails by the beach. It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Might as well be me. 
