I could have penned another blog, about my most profitable month in the UAE (and therefore my life quite possibly), but I’m not one to brag about all the record-breaking and the 660k (£134k sterling / $180k dollars) I pulled in for the company last month.
Instead, I’ll update you about an insight into a pending ‘levelling up’ project I’m about to embark on here in Dubai.
Following the guidance and advice of the legendary bossman that is Paul Evans (whose life story is available in all good bookstores titled: When I Woke Up), it may be time for me to flock the nest and find my own apartment in this extravagant metropolis.
Since I landed without much of a pot in the Sandpit around 3.5 years ago, I’ve been part of a privileged – elite – group of staff who’ve managed to benefit from the convenience and flexibility of staff accommodation. And to be fair, it’s been a lot more glamorous than it sounds.
It was a decision that saw me survive the whole lockdown episode (on zero pay), and during, and pre- the epic mess that’s been Covid I was living with almost half the incredible Gorgeous George band. We shared a fairly epic, and spacious 4-bedroom (plus a maid’s room) villa. Sadly, it wasn’t equipped with a maid. But it was awesome to spend lockdown with them, and not to be all on my lonesome which I’ve never been great at.
Of late, I’ve been in the utterly bizarre position of living with anywhere between 5-7 professional masseuses, all female, all Asian, and all without any benefits at all. I’m still yet to even get a massage from them: a clear sign that I’m losing my touch. I’ve also been the only person employed by our company in staff accommodation, the chicas all work for the bosses good lady, the former go-go guru from our Ministry of Sound Egypt days, Dom. Now Queen Bee and head honcho for the Blended Lifestyle brand.
Anyway, so now the hunt is on for somewhere new to call home. I’ve seen a Bell Air-style mansion, run by a young Welsh property type – who literally told me he woke up in a bush the night before we met. He also cheerfully invited me to a Halloween party at the house where there would be roughly 125 people whooping it up. It sounded kinda cool if I was still a twenty-something, but the thought of having that many randoms at my house did concern me slightly.
So I’ve been scoping out one-beds and studios and trying to find one a little bit special. And now I’ve found one, I’m quite keen on the space and freedom I’ll be getting. It’s fully furnished and fitted out like a hotel suite – yet, sadly, no room service is available. All that’s missing is a washing machine. And, having made it to my ripe old age without ever having bought any kitchen appliances of any kind, I’m now shopping for a fucking washing machine. This whole adulting thing isn’t easy.