Acclimatised

The past few days I've sat down to write and that blasted little blinking cursor didn't skip across the screen as I hoped. It just sat there blinking, mocking me. Was it writer's block? Maybe. Was I out of the habit of writing this blog? Perhaps.

Then this morning something hit me. Maybe I have become too acclimatised to this place. Everything seems normal. The things I used to finding jarring or unusual whoosh past me without notice. The fodder that I used to use to write about doesn't seem so worthy anymore.

As the kids got out the car for school, Goosey said: "Ooh it's a bit cool this morning", the radio had just told us it was currently 29 degrees at 7.30am, but after months of searing temperatures any dip below 30 or freshness in the breeze feels cold.

I then got in my car and drove home, when a large 4WD changed lanes in front of me almost hitting the side of my car, I was like : "Meh", no rise in anger or frustration, I almost expected it, I did expect it.

As the (Australian) radio traffic reporter read out where the snarls were, the street and suburb names that once sounded exotic are just the norm, "Hmm I'll avoid Al Wasl while driving back through Um Suqeim'" I thought to myself.

When I stopped in at the supermarket, Darbs and I  had to stop and talk to almost every staff member in the shop, "Have you handed in the loyalty card form yet, madam?" someone cried out to me. It would appear we're locals.

The other night, Skip and I went to a work function. We pulled into a luxurious five-star hotel where a row of staff waited, the doors were opened and we walked into the enormous foyer. You know, just chatting about the day, how the kids did their homework without fuss. Just everyday stuff. There was a time not so long ago that getting valet parking at an upmarket hotel would have been exciting, it would have been a thrill. Now it's common, and I don't even go out very much! Just that if you want a glass of wine with your meal you can't go to the pub or a local BYO with a bottle, you have to go to a hotel.

I've stopped converting dirhams into dollars when I'm shopping, trying to work out if something is cheap or expensive. I think I'm at the stage where I'm now converting dollars into dirhams!

We have an upcoming Islamic holiday, when these holidays occur are dictated by the moon. Yesterday the public holiday was announced, then the announcement was changed, then it changed again. I wasn't surprised.

The shiny excitement of living in a new country has dimmed a bit, the new everyday has become the old everyday. The honeymoon is over, so to speak. Not that life is bad or boring, far from it. I just miss that wide-eyed wonder a little.