I’ve been experiencing blogger’s block. I try to keep this space as positive as possible. I experience gaps in writing when I’m too busy enjoying life to pause for a post, or the opposite. Nothing strikes me anymore. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss my home. I miss myself. I used to think the world is my home, and I can make any place my community. This is completely misguided. Home is where there is a Best Buy and a Chick Fil A. Home is where my mom is. I spent the last month indulging in a passionate love affair with the USA. I drove around in my car. I ate at chick fil a often. I ate in general often. I pondered the meaning of life. If work is a means to an end…. where does it end?
The following is a list of things I didn’t think I would miss as much as I did.
1. Cowboy Boots. I wore them everywhere.
2. Scarves. I brought them back with me.
3. CD’s. I bought new ones at Best Buy as the soundtrack to my vacation.
5. Target. It’s the simple things.
I left the USA with plenty of happy moments and memories to keep me going for a while. Below is a snapshot of my family Thanksgiving:
Two days before my return to Doha, I became very sick. I coughed up snot and once sneezed out what looked like an egg yoke. My parents pumped me full of medication and took me to the airport. Though the journey took over 24 hours, and I had sleeping medication, I slept not a moment. Just sat in a foggy daze, travelling through time and space to arrive in Doha. I unpacked my bags and stayed awake all night wishing I was anywhere else. At 4 am, I drifted off to sleep. I woke at 6pm and am feeling just as lonely. Most of my friends in Doha have moved on, either transferred or resigned.
I am alone in the desert, and it feels like a new chapter for me in Doha. The age of the hermit is upon us. (Not like the time in college when I ordered pants and printer ink off the internet to avoid leaving my apartment, but a more deep and contemplative hermit) I polish off the mini loaf of zucchini bread my mom made for me and work on my puzzle (also given to me by my mother) in the corner of the room.