My tempoprary digs

For the first month, my company has put me up in a nearby hotel apartment. It includes breakfast, free Wifi and is right on top of a authentic Indian restaurant so the place always smells festive.

For some reason they put me on the 12th floor and I don't believe I have any neighbors. There is a gym on the top floor so I can get my meathead on and a pool on the roof.

I snapped this shot outside my window the first morning I woke up in the Middle East.

Fresh desert air flows in from my penthouse window and I just happened to be situated across the street from a Muslim mosque, which starts each morning with a prayer alert at 4:45 a.m. sharp.

Though I did not get much sleep the first night, I must have slept through that particular call to Allah. The Friday and Saturday prayers attract a crowd around noon each day...I also took this pic from my hotel window.

Rookie mistake my very first day: left complimentary prayer rug on floor while complimentary English breakfast was delivered. The hard floors were so cold on my bare feet so when I found a very nice, clean rug in a closet, I laid it down in the middle hallway. It really tied the room together.

As soon as room service came with breakfast, the Pakistani server almost dropped the food as he carefully dodged stepping on the rug with breakfast on his serving rack.

Opps. He left abruptly and negotiated around the rug once again on the way back out. One thing I've learned in this world is you never want to fuck with people who handle your food. I immediately folded the rug back up and placed in the back of closet. Lesson learned.

Just like most of the hotels, restaurants and merchandise stores in Abu Dhabi, they have Filipinos running the place. There are about five hotel workers here who like to make small chat with me when I go for runs in the morning or come sauntering in after work late at night. When the chit-chat comes up light, they usually just stare at me. I'm starting to get used to those blank stares.

The hotel unit has a small kitchenette with a big fridge, oven, burners, along with washer and dryer. No dish washer, but hey, it's not the Ritz. The hotel is also just a short walk from work.

As soon as my girlfriend makes it over here, I will find us a real place to live. My real estate agent is a self-proclaimed Canadian booze hound and he couldn't meet with me on New Year's Day to show me places because, "I'm going to be so hung over, I won't be able to leave the bed, couch or floor I pass out on..."

So it looks like my future housing prospects are in good hands.