A half-hour ago, I gave my last speaking test in Saudi Arabia. Now I have three weeks of doing nothing to look forward to, and then I'm out of here on the 13th (hopefully.)
I have a few instances of proctoring to do -- about four or five hours worth , I guess -- but the rest of the time I'm going to spend working on Vodkaberg, and try to get it in shape to publish before I leave.
Of course there's a bunch of paperwork to do when you leave Saudi Arabia for good. (In fact there's almost as much paperwork to do as when you arrive in Saudi Arabia.)
Might I return some day? Yeah, it's quite possible. Especially if I end up getting married.
Am I sad? Not particularly. Strange little poignant milestones occur to me though -- wow, that's the last time I buy a Snickers bar at the school snack bar. Wow, I can finally throw that red folder away and never think about it again. Wow, only a few more dips in the water with the jellyfish in the Persian Gulf.
I'm not too institutionalized -- not yet anyway. But I see that peace and quiet can be just as addictive as chaos and debauchery. There are older guys here who crabbily insist, "just one more year and then I'm out of here!" and have been saying that as long as anyone can remember. . .