There was a plan. No really. I’d be spending the holiday season with family back in London, with a tiny bit of downtime that I reserved for some 2015 blog summarising and 2016 blog planning. That was the plan. What actually happened was the tiny bit of downtime was a lot smaller than I’d expected and what I did have was filled with me sleeping off my terrible cold.
So why didn’t I get up on my blogging horse as soon as 2016 hit and hastily get on with the plan, even with it being a little late. Well, said cold turned into full on bronchitis and respiratory infection on returning to Bahrain. YAY!
For the first time, this Brit celebrated Thanksgiving last week. Well, I’m not sure celebrate is accurate. Thanksgiving dinner was had. Followed by much merriment. It was more just about the food. Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is all about?
Since as long as I can remember, I’ve really enjoyed having people over and cooking for them. Back in England I tried to do it as much as possible with my friends there. I’m proud to say I had an annual barbecue tradition where totally obscene amounts of food was cooked and consumed. And now I’m lucky enough to have a guy who enjoys doing this as much as me.
The life of an expat can seem exciting if you’re not an expat. Living in a country that’s not your home country and experiencing “the life”. There’s a few things you’re not taught about expat life though, and one of those is something I learnt last week.
Anish and I have begun to make friends. We’ve got a great group to hang out with thanks to /r/Bahrain and friends from work. A mixed bag of expats and Bahrainis. The expat population in Bahrain is mostly transient. People will come here and work for a few years and then move on. Bahrain also feels like the kind of place that attracts the kind of expat who’s more likely to just move on after an amount of time.
I like to stay healthy. Especially with my very sedentary job. Squash is my main form of exercise, but I try to bolster it with occasional trips to the gym to hit the bike and weights.
Standing in front of the mirror, with a couple of weights in my hands, I looked at my reflection and thought, “You don’t look half bad you know.” I’ve never been one to be overly concerned about body image. A long time ago I accepted the shape I am. But today was the first time I looked at my reflection and looked at it in more than an accepting kind of way.
Every Monday morning I wake up yearning after the weekend that’s just gone by, eagerly waiting for the next weekend to come. Sunday nights are the worst. Knowing that the following day begins the five long days until the next weekend arrives. Friday evening rolls around, everything resets. As cheesy as it sounds, it feels like anything is possible. Two whole days. DAMN.