Doha: Day 9, 10, 11 - Dorigo, Discos, Disappearing

So...

Not yet a fortnight and I've fallen behind in my writing. And to think I had (and still do) hoped to become some sort of journalist and columnist. I'd probably be unemployed before my second article, probably immediately after the first, considering my rather poor and consistent flaws and habits, one of which is using too many commas to make sentences too long, causing entire paragraphs to be dominated by only one actual sentence, accompanied by a couple of very short ones if they are lucky, or if I am somewhat distracted.

I hope I don't do that here.

But I guess it's been a rather busy few days here, especially since I've finally been entrusted enough to actually do stuff without having someone peer over my shoulder - much like I've been peering over theirs the previous week - and having my stuff to on air. Did a couple of things I can honestly and humbly say are pretty good, by my standards at least. Still haven't quite done what I do believe is my forte, the more tactical analysis kind of gig, though it does seem that the resident presenters and pundits here do a lot more than most of the ones I've had to work with previously, so even that isn't that much of a task.

Pity, actually.

But can't complain, or at least I won't.

For those wondering, I did eventually go out with the fellas from work the other night, somehow finding myself, hours later, amongst a sea of sweaty bodies in a club in Doha with shoddy air-conditioning. That was not a very fun experience in itself, though generally the night was alright, even if I felt like an outsider. Not that it was the fault of anyone other than me, but that's probably going to be the last time in a long time I get dragged to one of those things.

Tony Dorigo was there, of course, and Mido.

Yup, Mido.

Scandalous and controversial retired footballers aside, I managed to slip away as soon as I could, hearing the next day of how some of the others found themselves getting closely acquainted with rapidly-filling toilet bowls as they found the limits to their alcohol intake.

So here I sit, alone in my room, as most of my colleagues are in the process of getting smashed in the bar downstairs. Still unsure if this puts me in a negative light; pub culture is a big thing, after all, if what I've read and watched is to be believed, but really I don't ever see myself getting involved in that. Not even on religious grounds, as those who know me well will scoff at, but just...

Meh.

More than a week here now, of course. There's a familiar routine developing, in some ways, though with what has happened (and to a larger extent, not happened), that may very well change very quickly very soon. In the meantime though, making do with what I can and what I have, munching on a simple sandwich while watching random TV shows. Did my first load of laundry, getting the bank account sorted, now just need to get a place to stay and some actual cash money.

No problem there, right?