Beyond Desire

9-I am as active as a sloth on sedatives

By the time I was done with my father and was ready to call it a day, or better yet, the day itself was ready to cut off all ties with me, I was dead on my feet and barely avoiding total collapse. 

How I made it to my room remains a total mystery but the moment I did, I planted my face onto my bed, and let's just say I won't be winning any award for "most graceful collapse" anytime soon.

Needless to say, he had promised to include my foundation in an upcoming government healthcare and wellness grant program. Not what I wished for by half but I stand to practice that appreciation thing. At least until next time.

When I sat at my Musallah the next morning, after Fajr and Azkar, nursing a mug of matcha and sifting through my laptop files, I began to fear that I was slowly and forcefully being turned into a morning person. Only psychopaths, I thought, could wake up this early and stay awake throughout the day. Without sleep, I am as active as a sloth on sedatives and I hope my assistant soon realizes that and lets me be.

"What?" I yawned for the nth time and sighed exaggeratedly, I really wanted to go.

"I know you are fed up" She tsked. "But you frankly have to do this right now. The deadlines are getting deadly close, and people who allocated funds are getting impatient"

"How about we refund them and do this tomorrow?" I suggested, fuelled by sheer exhaustion.

"Wow, what a brilliant idea. Do refund everyone who's entrusted you with their donations simply because they are holding you accountable for transparency. I am sure that won't damage your reputation and deter future donors from supporting your cause"

Did I mention that Mahir was here?

There, you have it. Apparently, she woke him up to come up here and stop me from falling back asleep mid-session. Talk about bullies.

I scowled lazily at him and twirled around to face her on the Facetime call, to see if my option could be considered.

"Uhh....he does have a point" She pointed toward the voice of reason beside me.

"Fine! Let's get this done with, shall we?" Not like they left me with any other option.

"Let's"

"Alright, so who needs what? In order of importance please" I resisted a yawn and instead, gulped down the remaining matcha.

"Okay," She picked up. "We have seventeen elementary schoolers whose school fees are due. More than a dozen disabled people in need of medical aids, an orphanage dangerously low on food, a few abandoned mothers with kids who need instant intervention......." She continued on and on while I rearranged my list until she finished.

We analyzed how much we had on ground and distributed it accordingly to each, in order of significance. By the time we were wrapping up, the matcha had kicked at my consciousness and I was wide awake.

"Make sure you document everything including receipt and whatnot, and post it on the feed as usual, I don't want anyone on my neck"

I adore the fact that people were always willing and empathetic to make these donations but the sense of entitlement afterward is just insane. They give you as much breathing space as a chimpanzee would give it baby. I mean, hello? I posted this and I comprehend the urgency more than you do, thank you very much. You might as well just request a refund and we call it a day. Which is exactly why I choose "Fa'iza" as my assistant. That girl has patience big enough to end a world war.

"Noted. Sweet dreams no cap!" she hung up abruptly.

"Why don't you get a space for all these? It looks painfully stressful handling it all from home" Mahir suggested from where he lay comfortably on my bed.

"So I will have this turned into a job rather than a hobby? Nope, I will pass" The moment this foundation thing shifted into a responsibility, I will be jolting away from it faster than you could say "help". I know myself.

"Right? Do what you must" He shrugged, pulled himself up, and strolled out of the room, muttering something about how my sheets smelled too girly for his liking.

"You are just so rude" I muttered to the four walls around me as the target audience was long gone.

Left with nothing else to do, I began my day with my usual routine which usually entails waking myself up in a refreshing 36 degrees Celsius bathwater, thorough hair wash, setting my skincare in place, and brushing my teeth last because, well tradition. Then finally I get dressed.

I always leave hairstyling for the latter, mainly because I usually end up skipping it altogether. Is not like I am worried about being judged anyways. In fact, I am quite comfortable looking like a lion about to pounce.

However, once I completed my routine, my eagerness to start the day was as equal to the talent of an average Kardashian, so instead, I opted to just lie in bed, doing absolutely nothing. If you overlook the fact that I was trying so hard to force myself to sleep that is. I really need to get some in before breakfast.

Going against my words, I picked my phone off the charging dock and began to scroll through, responding to messages that had been left unattended for days on end.

I stumbled upon Miryam's text which I had completely forgotten about until now. I quickly responded to her request for a date anytime I was free and followed her account.

New messages kept popping up, shattering my attempt to clear the backlog of already existing ones. At some point, it got too exhausting and I began to feel drowsy. The goal literally.

Or so I thought until a particular text message popped up on my screen.

"I need your travel details."

I didn't need to rack my brain to figure out who it was. It's not like I spent the whole of yesterday and maybe a little bit of today, thinking about him or anything. But seriously, what did he want?

As if that wasn't enough complication to mess with my morning, another message dropped, throwing a fresh wrench into the mix.

"Try not to mess it up please."

I stared at the message on the screen wide-eyed. How much more condescending can he be? I could already feel the swell of fury and humiliation as I typed back a scathing response.

Just as I was about to hit send, my phone buzzed again, provoking me with yet another message from him. I glared at the screen, my fingers trembling with rage and anticipation.

"Speed up your response."

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Khadijah Sirmanjah.