...and waiting, watching the time pass. Quite why I don't know, but it's what I do. It'll do me no good, I know. I'll be a grouch in the morning, I'm a grouch most mornings. I start slow and build throughout the week. Some weeks I may be on top form as early as Monday (our week starts on a Saturday). Tomorrow I don't even have the football to look forward to after work, as there are a bunch of absolutely pointless international friendlies going on. The clock ticks past 23:35 and I study its unerring progress with some detachment, like it somehow doesn't apply to me. Life in Saudi is a constant waiting game; waiting till the the next time you can get out of the place. Unless you're a native, it's unlikely to be a place you'd say you'd emigrate to. The only way to pass the time here is to ignore it and occupy yourself, like here permanently plugged into the internet, gateway to into the real world. It feels difficult to really exist here, it sucks you dry eventually, you forget what it's like to do normal things after a while and once you're out, it takes days to work out where you are. The clock ticks by though and I wonder what sort of husk will be spat out at the end when I finally summon the reserves of courage to leave this place.