13 Things They Don’t Tell You About Working in Customer Service

13 Things They Don’t Tell You About Working in Customer Service

Call Center, Customer Service, Customer Care, Hotline
For the most part, working in Customer care is:

1. Having waves of malicious mouth odour wash over you by 9.15am when you are premenstrual and nauseous and want to lie down. Oh, and you have to smile through this biological attack and wait until the source is safely out of view before dousing yourself in air freshener.

2. Realizing that you are actually just a glorified errand girl/receptionist/nanny/mummy/court jester. 

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The Abuja Arts and Crafts Village

The Abuja Arts and Crafts Village

First of all, hi guys! You must know that I love you even though I have a rather ridiculous way of showing it. Second of all, thank you to the few people who take this blog seriously and wander over here every once in a while to look at the pretty animals or even to cuss me out for being so stingy with posts. Mwah!
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Solo

Solo

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I’m the last of six children and we all lived together with our mom. I grew up accustomed to feeling the presence of others; always knowing that “someone is around”. When I hit puberty, I was grateful that my family, though religious, was still liberal enough to let me stay home from church once in a while, whenever I said I didn’t want to go. I craved that solitude back then; the knowledge that nobody else was around. The thrill of strange noises caused by unknown and possibly macabre agents.
I never lived outside of home during my school years, the main reason being that our house at the time was actually a trekkable distance from my campus. It was therefore impractical of me to schlep all the way to the hostels, which were even farther away than the school. Also, staying on campus would incur expenses that would be both cringeworthy and painfully unecessary for my mother. I knew all this, so I never pushed. Read more

Warm Bodies

Warm Bodies

Chika spread her legs wider apart and ran her hands leisurely over his back.
“Mmmm….”, her moan trailed off as he pushed slowly inside her, trying to bury his whole body inside of hers.
Closing her eyes, she traced her fingertips lightly down his arms; shoulders to wrists, and thought about those other arms. The original arms. Those arms with the leather bracelet around the left wrist. The bracelet she would hold on to while the rest of the body attached to those arms pinned her in a position like this one. And the eyes would stare soulfully into hers. Those lips would mouth, “I love you, baby”, even as he thrust hard and sweet, deeper into her, aiming for her heart and soul…
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