I had a date on Valentine’s Day, but I am happy the hullabaloo is over.
Oestrogen-filled-hearts are not fluttering like a butterfly (they are settling down to beating normally), flowers have withered and been dumped, and life is back.
The good thing is that I have had three nice meals this week (cooked at home).
The bad thing (sinful even) is that I am absconding my holy orders duties.
On Monday of the following week I was not concentrating during the adoration hour, I almost dropped the monstrance during benediction.
I was late for Tuesday morning mass thus I had to skip – unlike me – the sermon so that those who get to office early were not late.
On Wednesday I asked a deacon to go to listen to confessions while I gallivanted around Nairobi with the swanky Jewish girl.
On Thursday I at least tried to do what I was ordained to do – I officiated the evening mass and well, stayed the night at the vicarage.
As obvious, Members’ Day – Friday – was as usual – revelry. This day we had sex (on our fourth date) – and I mean hard sex – till the moon became the sun.
To keep my façade I had to remain indoors with Shiri the whole of Saturday. But in the evening I had to come up with an excuse of excuses to rush back to the vicarage – I was to conduct the Sunday Mass the following day.