Done

I resigned today. Gatvol of being treated like the pig's shit smeared into SUV tread.

Was um ohing about getting another job here but after the way the ass treated me, I'm booking my flight now.

Through with the rabbit hole

No one would believe the absurdities that the political carnival at work has reached. Folks, I may be home sooner than all of us expected. In fact, right now I’m weighing up what can be gained out of staying.

Work is something like Alice in Wonderland. I keep taking these things that make me too tall, too small, too boyish, too plain, too sick, too healthy, too dumb, too smart… The boss is the rabbit “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date”, who is subject to the queen of hearts “Off with her head”. The mad hatter riles up all the royal subjects to go insult the queen, get their heads chopped off and amuse the old potter. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are well, that. And then there’s a caterpillar trying to persuade Alice, me, that this world uses a different logic. Thing is, I know that. I think I almost even understand it. But I’m weighing up whether there’s anything for me to gain out of playing the game.

The option of slipping back through the rabbit hole is just too easy. Well, I’m going to try and keep it going for another two months. Dunno why… but hey, maybe there’ll be some surprise return on investment. At the moment the only thing keeping me here is money, and my materialism is vanishing fast. No amount of money is worth working for an asshole.

Vrou Dag

Check out my contribution on women's day:

http://www.litnet.co.za/bazaar/power_of_words.asp

(scroll down)

Chew on snot

Yup. Sick sick sick. Brain caked in snot and my breathing rasping like Darth Vader. In fact, the whole office is down with it.

The conversation always starts with, “Yes, everyone is sick. You know what it is…” And then everyone completes the sentence differently. Blame is ladled on everything from it being the Saudies to constantly walking between air-conditioning and sweltering temperatures, some wind that always brings disease, the humidity that brings the germs up from the pavement to our nostrils, or smoking.

Today I had to pull our feature about Google because the government has blocked Google Earth. Last night I had nightmares about trying to find an interviewee for our profile article. My colleague was horrified to discover that I dream about work. I told her I dream about everything, even the Lebanon-Israel war and all the skyscrapers going up in the city (then I become really really big and start climbing over them like King Kong).

The weekend was mostly spent in snotty self-pity. On Friday some Indian colleagues took me on the first of a series of dinings aimed at educating me about Indian food. They tried their damndest to dislodge my snot with their hottest curries, but alack my tastebuds were already numb.

The night before that I went to that party but fell into one of my silent moods – not conducive to making new friends, but it was tough anyway being four hours behind in terms of drinking. Also noted that I was the only girl in the room not seriously overweight and recalled someone’s warning that Bahrain makes you fat.

Did speak to one pretty cool chick who said “don’t settle for the first social group you find in Bahrain”. Okay. Also swapped numbers with a Saffir from da East Rand who wants to go exploring the rural areas of the island (he’s also new). During my lift home I bombarded my dear hostess with slurred, ernstige questions about Bahrain and she kept answering “I don’t know”. I kept on. Agh, it wasn’t my finest hour.

Oh, and then on Saturday I charmed a business man in the hope that he’d organize me an interview with his famous brother. (Hmm. Actually it was quite a busy weekend). The charming went well and his eyes twinkled, but he can only help me out for the next issue.

He also told me something rather interesting: Bahrain is one of the few places in the Middle East where the locals actually work. Apparently there is some indigenous wheel shouldering in Oman, but that it’s mostly window dressing. AND an interesting piece of economical history: In the early nineties, Bahrain was the top Middle East location, Dubai only a pile of dust. After the Gulf War, Iran or Syria – can’t remember – tried to claim Bahrain as theirs. Although they didn’t succeed and that was when the US army base pulled in for Bahrain’s protection, it gave Bahrain some really bad press and that’s when Dubai overtook Bahrain.

Watched Motorcycle Diaries. It inspired me again.

Briefly on better

Feeling better on one level – hooked up with some journos from downstairs and went out. One’s favourite book is Confederacy of Dunces, which I just ordered off Amazon. Another is a master bullshitter and another is a lounge DJ. They tend to be slightly chauvinist for my taste, a bit rah rah and macho. I think there’s softness beneath it and that it’s all for laughs, but I still haven’t figured out quite how to respond to it.

Tonight there’s a party at one of their house’s and tomorrow my air conditioner is being serviced. I’m hoping that that is what has sparked my raw cough and swollen sinuses; and that my leaden limbs are just Thursday afternoon lethargy. Flu would be awful right now, especially in this heat.

The walls have eyes

Okay. I’m miserable and disillusioned and I want to come home.

Fuck staring at my walls, they’re staring back at me. I’ve gone through almost all the books I brought, five series of That Seventies Show, two series of American Dad and a gazillion movies. My vibrator’s rechargeable batteries exploded over the weekend.

So I thought I’d buy a camera and start documenting the badass streetcats that move in packs and fight like gangs. But the camera I want is sold out. The rest of what’s available is a ripoff. So then I thought I’d take a holiday somewhere, it’s cheap and close. That idea was snubbed when I heard I can’t take leave until I’ve worked here for a year.

Then I talk to other people who have lived here for years and I find myself telling them stuff about their island. My standards are too high, I consume my environment too fast.

I have to wait three weeks for more books to arrive from Amazon and I can’t even find the fucking beer shop. Nor can I get a blimming interview for our featured profile.

Last night I stooped to retail therapy. It actually worked until five minutes ago. Now I’m right back to what drove me out of my house, waving my credit card and wailing with self-implosion.