That Girl, Eskom and Mosquitoes. A night in Paradise.

Shifting my mind from wines, sports stars, great food and quirky wine makers back to mobile marketing takes some effort. It takes a little more preparation and research after a nice two week layoff, the excitement of new projects and meeting an all too fascinating girl.
These are the sort of life altering pressures previously unknown to me as I drifted through my daily tasks completely oblivious to a life divorced from my laptop and mobile phone.
That was two weeks ago. Now suddenly things have changed. The previously ordinary and sometimes tedious 24 hour days seem slightly more hastened. Somehow it seems that there are now about 30 minutes to every hour and to top it all off, I now have load shedding to negotiate as well.
I’m a structured person. Albeit not meticulously organised, I still place a great amount of emphasis on planning my days ahead. I’m not your spur of the moment person and nothing irks me more than having to adjust my schedule at the last minute because “life happens” or whatever.
I like knowing things. For instance, when I meet a girl, the best part of the encounter for me would be to immediately sense the attraction (if any), to have a communications platform carefully crafted already and full well know what to expect at least a couple of days in advance.
You’d think that my life is boring, but I’ll have you know that the amount of adrenaline that rushes to my brain on more occasions than I care to divulge is often enough to deem the main character’s super powers from Pushing Daisies not worthy of the airtime on M-Net.
If it hadn’t happened yet, you’d probably soon end up wondering what exactly all this has to do with mobile marketing. The answer would be, well, nothing. But also everything.
You see, if some clever, outside the box thinking nut job at Eskom cared enough about the load shedding crisis that is paralysing our tourism industry, halves our economy and exponentially increases our traffic congestion, then a simple paid for sms service on load shedding times, reminders and ad hoc notifications on changes to their scheduled downtime would suffice.
I wouldn’t be rushing from the office at 5pm last night to make it to the gym, the shop to get dinner, manage to cook it, devour it, shower, check my mails and read 4 lines of The Saint, the Surfer and the CEO before the electricity is supposed to kneel before the electro empire’s command at 8pm.
You guessed it. With great anticipation, slightly elevated breath from all the mayhem and trembling like Larry Hagman first thing in the morning because he hasn’t had his remedy yet, 8pm came and went like the promise of competitive fuel prices and reasonable bank charges.
It was 9:30pm when I realised I was still waiting. Doing absolutely nothing, except waiting. Waiting for Eskom to deliver on their promise of another romantic solo act with blue scented candles, a room exceeding 30 degrees and a declaration of war against those bloodsucking mosquitoes.
The lights were on, literally. But no one was home.
Come to think of it, I probably could’ve called that girl.

http://bluespotmedia.ning.com/