Understanding and sympathizing with my plight, one of the nieces decided to send me some encouragement. My thanks to the Girl for enlightening the Twins to this unfortunate situation.
Sunday 23 February 2014
Saturday 22 February 2014
When you know it's time to go home...
So the other day I had an unfortunate dream:
It began like any other dream, I was instantly transported to some magical place that appeared to happen like I had been there for a while. The magical setting was a restaurant, the location unknown (alright this was no magical location). For some reason it was our honeymoon but the Girl was no where in sight. This didn't seem anymore unusual than the random people talking to me. In fact the whole restaurant took great joy in asking me questions about various things. I answered and told magnificent stories with much glee. After a while I realised I didn't have any food in front of me. This led me to look over to a waiter walking past with a massive plate filled with a very greasy breakfast. I rudely stopped talking to everyone, called a different waiter over to order my breakfast. Let's just say for the happiness of my marriage, I also ordered for the Girl who was probably on her way down, although one can never fully recall the particulars of ones dream after they have resumed consciousness.
But I digress, the waiter possibly having taken or not taken my order began to talk to me as well, asking all sorts of questions about my life in general. I'm pretty sure my captivated audience was enthralled by the rendition of my brides description that I was laying out in vivid detail. Again I saw more plates coming out from the kitchen with all of them diverted from my direction. At this point I got up out of my chair trying to see if there was a buffet. The crowd surrounded me and wanted more details of whatever had been churning out of my mouth. I insisted they leave, asked the waiter to check on my food, and sat back down with a rumbling stomach. The crowd dispersed before the waiter went back through the saloon style doors. A few moments later he popped his head out followed with a thumbs up. My mouth salivating, the doors flung open and the chef was wheeling a cart out.
At this exact moment my eyes blinked open. I was awake. In a cruel twist there was no alarm ringing in my ears. There was no bacon. 7 weeks without the breakfast pleasure was almost too much. I cannot explain the utter disappointment of waking up in Saudi with a hankering for bacon! I've never had such utter withdrawals from bacon before and it may just be due to the fact it is unattainable. But there is no bacon. No bacon at all.
It began like any other dream, I was instantly transported to some magical place that appeared to happen like I had been there for a while. The magical setting was a restaurant, the location unknown (alright this was no magical location). For some reason it was our honeymoon but the Girl was no where in sight. This didn't seem anymore unusual than the random people talking to me. In fact the whole restaurant took great joy in asking me questions about various things. I answered and told magnificent stories with much glee. After a while I realised I didn't have any food in front of me. This led me to look over to a waiter walking past with a massive plate filled with a very greasy breakfast. I rudely stopped talking to everyone, called a different waiter over to order my breakfast. Let's just say for the happiness of my marriage, I also ordered for the Girl who was probably on her way down, although one can never fully recall the particulars of ones dream after they have resumed consciousness.
But I digress, the waiter possibly having taken or not taken my order began to talk to me as well, asking all sorts of questions about my life in general. I'm pretty sure my captivated audience was enthralled by the rendition of my brides description that I was laying out in vivid detail. Again I saw more plates coming out from the kitchen with all of them diverted from my direction. At this point I got up out of my chair trying to see if there was a buffet. The crowd surrounded me and wanted more details of whatever had been churning out of my mouth. I insisted they leave, asked the waiter to check on my food, and sat back down with a rumbling stomach. The crowd dispersed before the waiter went back through the saloon style doors. A few moments later he popped his head out followed with a thumbs up. My mouth salivating, the doors flung open and the chef was wheeling a cart out.
At this exact moment my eyes blinked open. I was awake. In a cruel twist there was no alarm ringing in my ears. There was no bacon. 7 weeks without the breakfast pleasure was almost too much. I cannot explain the utter disappointment of waking up in Saudi with a hankering for bacon! I've never had such utter withdrawals from bacon before and it may just be due to the fact it is unattainable. But there is no bacon. No bacon at all.
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