Some days after the return to work and there seems to be a return to the position in which we found ourselves before I departed for the festivities. Things look much as they did before providing a sense of ambivalence - on the one hand things are no worse than when I left, on the other, neither have they improved. Hence the stasis.

I even looked the word up and found an slightly unexpected application for the word

Pathology Stoppage of the normal flow of a body substance, as of blood through an artery or of intestinal contents through the bowels.

I feel a desperate urge to share here, but in the interests of decorum, I shall instead just blame the meds...

Sleep since the return has been at a premium. 02:00 alarms for 03:00 taxis off the back of 30 minutes sleep do not make for good travel companions. When combined with 3 hour waits for aircraft that take-off late, barely getting to the connecting flight in time to wait on the tarmac for a further 3 hours whilst the aircraft sits in the anti-icing queue, you begin to understand the rather disjointed feeling AM and I had on finally making it to Riyadh. It was a kind of an odd weekend where sleep fell wherever it came. It's finally coming right, but the tiredness persists, compounded no doubt by the New Year imperative to exercise.

Reality is starting to kick in though, its inbox cleared of its assorted detritus and evidence of carefully laid plans discarded in absentia. Recalibration is being applied and asserted where needed, concerns assuaged and strategies reviewed. This too will come to pass...

Closer to home there are the inevitable piles of newly acquired gifts stacked on the dining table, the sense of not quite being home and the next escape to be planned. Calls to book flights already as strong as the northerly wind outside - OK, so it is in February, before when I need a new visa, a new driving licence and a new iqama (residents permit). Bureaucracy here is such that these things must align with the precision more commonly associated with a Cruise missile strike if I am to escape these parts in a little over 6 weeks time.

Before then there is the music PC to resurrect, whilst away, it died. It has been resuscitated, fitted with a pacemaker, has died again and must now face surgery. What I really need is for a Gregory House like figure to step into the breach and identify the true cause of the emergency before I undertake a wholly unnecessary (and expensive) procedure with limited hope of success. Time I think to contact 'GomezMan' - where are you Eddie?