The dust will blow in. Literally. This is how you know how well your home is built, by how much you have to dust and vacuum in a dust-storm. I remember during one storm in Saudi I was cleaning the air-conditionless apartment for the third time in one day, when I got to the bathroom where the white tile had turned red from dust, again. I gave up and went to bed with a dust mask over my mouth and nose.
|Al-Khobar, KSA, 11/02/2009|
This week I had all the second hand smoke, dust and sand I could take. I'm going on my third night of being flat out on the couch or bed, depending on what floor I'm on, dragging around my supply of strepsils, panadol, tissues, cold mugs of lemsip, and ventolin.
My angel is away for the weekend, so I can rest. But she cried as she was taken away because she didn't want to leave me all alone, she wanted to stay and take care of me.
I, guiltily, actually feel like I'm on vacation. I'm eating what I want, ice-cream for breakfast, sleeping when I want, 9-11am & 4-7pm naps, and watching Grey's Anatomy. I have 24 hours left.