The weeks before handing in my notice were pretty fraught with terror. Ask Kerry – I called her nearly every day to re-explain my reasons for doing this. My voice must have grated with desperation. I frantically sent out resumes and called anyone who seemed remotely interested. I gave myself to October 1. And when nothing appeared to happen then, I stretched it to the next week. Each night, I prayed that someone would offer me a job before I agreed to leave this one. Makes sense, right? This economy is still shaky to say the least. And I have not been without a job except for maybe a month or two back in the early 80s (and before that – high school). I am a freak when it comes to security (even though I cannot save money to save my life).

So why am I so relaxed now? I gave notice and I still don’t have a job. Turns out it was a different kind of terror. I was afraid of having to stay.

This has never been an ideal living situation. I’m not suffering materialistically, as most of the population around me are. Kuwait just offers nothing past the work. From the lack of scenery to the bad drivers to the lack of the Arts to the smell and the dust. It’s a joyless place that borders perilously close to human trafficking. Kuwait is the epitome of anti-social, though – like at work – a lot of that stems from the caste system that is not only the rich/poor strata, but each expat culture’s built-in levels of non-integration. In New York, does a cab driver differ to you because he is only a cab driver? No. Do women in an office differ to the men in the office just because they’re women? No (this is big among the Indians). But here that is always switched on. And it is solid as a rock. You walk into a room and you are already in your place. There is only shopping – the universal experience. And the sadness and depression has spread to my work, as the economy of our industry continues to dive and we continue to pretend it doesn’t.

Then there is the loneliness. I was trying to remember when the last time was I lived alone. The answer was never. I have always lived with someone: brothers & sister, roommates, housemates or wife and son. Always. Living alone has allowed me to watch whatever movie I want whenever I feel like it. That thrill wore off a long time ago. I live like a monk… who can’t cook. That fear – that desperation – was the thought of having to continue this existence.

Glad it’s over.

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