"Working again? Tonight? I thought you were always at home. It's been a long week and besides I don't like these fancy parties. The guests are always rude. What am I going to wear? Why didn't you tell me about this when the week started? You should keep a diary. Looks like I might hand in my resignation letter early into the job. I can't. You're a slave driver Zizwe." I listen to Kenya complain. I don't know why she's complaining so much. A few days ago she was mad I left without her and now that I decided to take her with me against my judgement she complains.
"I'll help you pick a dress." I tell her instead of arguing and reminding her that she chose this job. Because that came out very wrong the last time. So I open her side of the closet and I pick a red dress with black heels. I nev
