Out of the Qomqom*

I'm bored, dizzy and sick of being sick. Well dizzy because I've been playing this weird game called First-Person Tetris. Last time I wrote I spent the previous weeks sick in bed. Well, now I'm feeling better.

Little progress in my study as I can't find the right people to answer my questions. I need managers/ employees in UAE, who are willing to use, or already using Intranet Blogs in their organizations. Since I can't find people in such category, my advisor said it's going to be an exploratory study. But still I need managers who are willing to gather and attend a focused group discussion where we can talk and answer the questions of the study.

My MS-office word is giving me hard time. I'm not able to add the tables of index, references, figures, among many other things. So it's really boring and time consuming thing to do it manually. I still have to edit the literature review grammatically, and finish paraphrasing the previous studies section, let alone writing the last two chapters.

I've always loved my study, loved reading books and even better writing my own philosophy regarding what I read and what I'm really interested in i.e writing a thesis; BUT (yes a big but here) this is different.

My life seems upside-down. I have a lot in mind; projects and plans. Yet I feel my life is pending and I'm spending my days just waiting. it feels like gazing at a white wall with nothing in mind, but this wall is full of scratches and sketches of my thoughts, and they are getting messy and crowded.

***

oh, I almost forgot! Today was my father's birthday and as usual, Atta Crocker backed a chocolate cake. No photos this time. we ate it before I could take a picture.

Happy Birthday dad, even though I know you don't read my blog but I'm sure mom will tell you I wrote :)

* Qomqom: the bottle where the jinn are kept .. but in Arabic the word is uses for people who hide away for a while.
P.S. don't over play the game I gave in the link. it's really .. no healthy :|

That's all for now
I hope you can make sense out of this post

Anything But My Bathroom

So, the hour I spent today sterilizing my bathroom was unplanned. When jiddo (grandpa) came to visit last year, he stayed in my room and took over my bathroom. I spent about a year in the guest/maid/ laundry room or call it what you will. It's a small room with its bathroom where I spent most of last year studying and preparing for my previous thesis. Such a small room where I used to sit on my office chair and move from here to here, because there was no there.

Back to jiddo's visit. Or right after that, when I discovered the seat of toilet was a bit loose. I told my dad to inform the maintenance back then. then jiddo came to visit again and it was all forgotten. Then my sister Sana finished her study and came to live with us. With her first visit to the bathroom she fixed the loose seat! Thanks Sue :D

Last month I came from Jordan and found the seat loose again. Told dad to inform the maintenance department and next day they came and fixed it. Thanks BUT from that day I noticed spots of water, then bigger wet areas and my sister checked and said the tank is leaking. "So they fixed the seat to break the tank" I believe. We informed the maintenance and they sent a worker and oh my he said the tank is leaking! I thought "we told you so!"

So we waited almost two weeks! and today they sent Mr Know-How-To-Fix-Things and he did fix the tank. While Atta doing her mission of sterilizing the bathroom she discovered now the seat is terribly loose. So they came to fix the tank and break the seat!

First time I tried to flush the toilet an aircraft was in the air. But the sound was sort of coming from the tank! OMG then it landed there I think and a bomb sound was made to announce "the tank is Full" :S

What I am annoyed about is not the broken things or fixing them or the aircraft sound. I'm only annoyed about the idea of a stranger in my bathroom. You should see me, hiding inside my room telling dad to watch the man and not let him touch a thing. I never go in and never want to see someone there. A couple of times I would ask dad what did the worker exactly touch in the bathroom. Dad rolls his eyes and mumbles a couple of words and mention an OCDic friend and move on with his life, while I keep scrubbing every inch in the bathroom.

That's all for now
I wish dad can fix it