- The process of renting our house out is almost complete: to date the deal has been signed, sealed and will be delivered by the end of the month. Now I just need to effect all the repairs I've been busily ignoring for the past however-many-months and start sorting out our junk... (and with three kids, we sure do have a lot of junk - garage sale, anyone?)
- I may have found a rental house for us to live in. It's not exactly the area I considered when I started my search but it's workable with it's own unique charm. The house itself is beyond charming and, brilliantly, has just been completely refurbished with a tasteful eye (not usually the case here in Dubai where, it seems, the majority of landlords consider bathrooms with tiles the color of chopped liver to be ultra-desirable)
- I've been offered a job: just need to see if the terms are reasonable and the hours flexible before I decide one way or the other
- Off to see British singer-songwriter and ex-lead singer of the Verve Richard Ashcroft on Friday night, a total nod to my disreputable youth. Listening to Bittersweet Symphony still makes me think of sitting on the top of London's Primrose Hill with my mates watching the sun come up after a hard night dancing at Hoxton's once-famous 333 club or one of the dodgy one-off nights they used to hold underneath the Arches in Vauxhall. The big difference is that this time I'll be 15 years older and dancing on the sand at Dubai's Nasimi Beach, hopefully with a complicated cocktail in my hand. I'm very much looking forward to it - after all, even an ancient mother-of-three needs to let her hair down now and then.
Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!