It all started when my mentor, (rabena ye7fazo w yekremo w ye7meeh.... 2oolo 2ameen), suggested I hit Dubai to do the meeting in person.
- I said I couldn't afford it.
-He asked "Not even for shopping?"
- To which I pathetically replied, "Yes, of course if I go, I will shop for other meetings, partnerships and so on."
- He said "Yasmine, shopping shopping, not business shopping."
At that point it hit me, I have become a workaholic. Not that I didn't know that before, and not in the traditional meaning of the word, but what hit me was, I used to be a semi-shoppaholic- fashionista till not so long ago, what happened? Kept thinking and thinking, then I realized, the deadly threesome is what happened: age, weight and money (or rather lack of).
Anyway, fast forward to 2-3 weeks later (sorry, lost track of time), I am writing this to you from Dubai. The trip kind of worked out on its own; got a sponsorship for a visa, stayed at my cousins, bridged in a trip to Beirut first..etc. And because my parents feel the constant pressure I am under, they suggested I spend the weekend and "do a little shopping" (bardo.. maho kol 7ad akalemo ye2olli go shopping... ma 3aleena). So I ended up staying a few extra days, but naturally being me, I scheduled meeting on Sunday and Monday as well.
I realized I shouldn't have. First of all, the moment I landed at Beirut, I had fever and a sore throat. I had my meetings while on a high caused by those darn cold and flu medicines. And the truth is, I hate being alone ( I mean ideally , one should be with their "someone special" but since there is none, I surrond myself with family and friends to make up for the lack of that), but kaman, on your own, in another country, sick! La2a ba2a.. too much!
But by the time I reached Dubai, my fever has gone, throat feels much better alhamdulilah, but I got the blocked nose and the annoying voice thing (not husky in a sexy way, but rather, like i've been smoking none stop for 30 years). So I am very self-conscious but I said , what the hell, I'm with my cousins, have friends, got positive meetings going on.. try to have fun!
But you know what, I realized it, i fucking hate this place. It gets to me! Besides it being fake and lifeless, and aside the fact that it reminds me of really sad days that I try not to remember, there's something about Dubai that I can't quite absorb. The moment I step in here, I feel inadequate! Everything is doable; you get to live in one of those magazine-photo shoot material high-rise apartment, with incredible views, and luxury designer furnisher, get that fast and expensive car, complain about wasting 20 precious moments of your life in traffic (yes.. 20 mins is a traffic jam), go to a fancy gym, wear expensive designer clothes, eat in a fancy restaurant every single day, maybe even twice, cause you can't be bothered to cook breakfast when you can have breakfast at Paul's for example! Anyway, you CAN do that, but you need the money , so you get a job that's high paying. 75% of the people I met hate their jobs, but keep them for the money, they need to afford that luxury lifestyle. But the more money you get the more you want, and you end up in this vicious circle of consumerism! And on the other hand, you see those poor indian and asian workers that do shitty work for scraps, so that they can save some money to send home for their families. And their working and living conditions and just inhumane. It's not like I am a socialist or anything, but here, it's just ..well.. more than I can tolerate.
So now that I think of it, no wonder that I was reluctant to come. El mohem, at least I know it's a short trip and I'll be home soon. So if anyone ever suggests making Dubai (or anywhere else in the gulf) your home, I reserve the right to punch them in the face :)
- I said I couldn't afford it.
-He asked "Not even for shopping?"
- To which I pathetically replied, "Yes, of course if I go, I will shop for other meetings, partnerships and so on."
- He said "Yasmine, shopping shopping, not business shopping."
At that point it hit me, I have become a workaholic. Not that I didn't know that before, and not in the traditional meaning of the word, but what hit me was, I used to be a semi-shoppaholic- fashionista till not so long ago, what happened? Kept thinking and thinking, then I realized, the deadly threesome is what happened: age, weight and money (or rather lack of).
Anyway, fast forward to 2-3 weeks later (sorry, lost track of time), I am writing this to you from Dubai. The trip kind of worked out on its own; got a sponsorship for a visa, stayed at my cousins, bridged in a trip to Beirut first..etc. And because my parents feel the constant pressure I am under, they suggested I spend the weekend and "do a little shopping" (bardo.. maho kol 7ad akalemo ye2olli go shopping... ma 3aleena). So I ended up staying a few extra days, but naturally being me, I scheduled meeting on Sunday and Monday as well.
I realized I shouldn't have. First of all, the moment I landed at Beirut, I had fever and a sore throat. I had my meetings while on a high caused by those darn cold and flu medicines. And the truth is, I hate being alone ( I mean ideally , one should be with their "someone special" but since there is none, I surrond myself with family and friends to make up for the lack of that), but kaman, on your own, in another country, sick! La2a ba2a.. too much!
But by the time I reached Dubai, my fever has gone, throat feels much better alhamdulilah, but I got the blocked nose and the annoying voice thing (not husky in a sexy way, but rather, like i've been smoking none stop for 30 years). So I am very self-conscious but I said , what the hell, I'm with my cousins, have friends, got positive meetings going on.. try to have fun!
But you know what, I realized it, i fucking hate this place. It gets to me! Besides it being fake and lifeless, and aside the fact that it reminds me of really sad days that I try not to remember, there's something about Dubai that I can't quite absorb. The moment I step in here, I feel inadequate! Everything is doable; you get to live in one of those magazine-photo shoot material high-rise apartment, with incredible views, and luxury designer furnisher, get that fast and expensive car, complain about wasting 20 precious moments of your life in traffic (yes.. 20 mins is a traffic jam), go to a fancy gym, wear expensive designer clothes, eat in a fancy restaurant every single day, maybe even twice, cause you can't be bothered to cook breakfast when you can have breakfast at Paul's for example! Anyway, you CAN do that, but you need the money , so you get a job that's high paying. 75% of the people I met hate their jobs, but keep them for the money, they need to afford that luxury lifestyle. But the more money you get the more you want, and you end up in this vicious circle of consumerism! And on the other hand, you see those poor indian and asian workers that do shitty work for scraps, so that they can save some money to send home for their families. And their working and living conditions and just inhumane. It's not like I am a socialist or anything, but here, it's just ..well.. more than I can tolerate.
So now that I think of it, no wonder that I was reluctant to come. El mohem, at least I know it's a short trip and I'll be home soon. So if anyone ever suggests making Dubai (or anywhere else in the gulf) your home, I reserve the right to punch them in the face :)
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