The last few weeks have been tossing between being ill and now I’m pretty sure, when visiting the airport, I had all the symptoms of swine flu, down to a tee. Like with all things working away from home, the mind rambles on and you find yourself getting into patterns and routines of things.
Mine starts off with wake up, shower, dressed, down lift, catch taxi, tell taxi driver where to go and how to get there even tho he is in Dubai for years on end, get into the office, eat dinner from a bag (tuna), walk 1/2km up the road to get a taxi to go home, get in a quick swim or nap, out to the mall for a wander or food, back home, tv, sleep and then back to bed. Mundane just to say the least but then last week I had some company over and things just seemed, I dunno… a touch brighter when you have someone about to talk to…
Yes there are people about that you pass the customaries with that I share the appartment with like the typical hello, how are you, but its not like sitting down with mates and chatting about all things bollocks as you do. I remember meeting a lass a while back who when meeting here for the first time just felt instantly chilled out with and had a good few drinks with at hers. I miss that sensation of just being able to pop around to see people, then again thats been gone for a good long while now.
Even if I was back “home” in the wet climbs of Solva things would be no better, replace going to the mall with going to the pub and with the drinking being at a minimal, pub coke always tastes vile, not to mention the caffine hit you get from it.
Back to the point life gets down to routine, always, sometimes odd but its a routine none the less and mine changed last week, for the better, but even when thats the case in the back of the mind im thinking that I have to go back to the old routine sooner or later. Today was that day of going back to the same old, same old and thats when the world seems a lot bigger and I certainly feel a lot smaller.
Who is to say what normal is, thats for each and everyone to work out for themseleves but it felt “nice” (gah hate that word) to have company around, to eat meals in company and basically not feeling like a non entity of always floating around from here to there following the same old path.
Should I be complaining like this is the next thought in the brain box? After all I’ve been offered a load of money to stay on in this job that was only supposed to be about 3 weeks when I flew back here the last time. Money doesn’t buy happines just a better standard of misery. Dubai isnt really the town where you have a “local” bar where you go and might bump into people, its quite a transient sort of place still. Closet Ive managed to get to that is the Double Decker below the hotel and the barstaff acknowledging me, especially the woman serving who, whenever I try and make a nice gesture or compliment it ends up going incredibly wrong and embarresing for yours truely. Luckily Im a pro at lurking about in the shadows being left alone by people, especially Auzzies who all seem to think that Im gay. Just because Ive shat out half my body, stopped drinking and in that fat phase of loosing weight and now i look flabby when in fact in slimmer, doesnt put me in the gay fat man crowd.
Even clothes are a nigthmare here. My perfectly fitting Levis that cost a fair penny (other jeans were ripped) are now baggy and a little ill fitting after just a couple of weeks.
Right time to try and do some work. Ive a deadline of getting back to the uk in 2 weeks time for a visit, a meeting today, meeting on thursday, a tape machine with a blinking light and now a headache…