I wrote this last year, in March 2014, it’s a letter for my dad. Something not a lot of people know about me, I’m daddy’s little girl.

Dear Dad,

Winter is almost over in the desert. Soon freezing nights (well freezing at least in my opinion, you know how I despise cold weather as much as I hate tropical climate) will be replaced by sweat-filled dreams and more CO2 emissions than usual. It isn’t that hot yet though and for some reason, I feel that this change in season is affecting my life more than it should. It’s as if I placed all my plans on hold until I finally feel the real Dubai heat. We have 15-20ºC more to go.

I’m waiting for the feeling of being in an oven, the warm and humid air pushes back on my face as I open the office door to go home. The summer sun piercing my skin, you shed off a lot of water without you noticing it. It’s when people with I-have-so-much-extra-time-I-spend-it-at-the-gym, spend most of their mornings or weekends sunbathing at the nearest beach.

Or maybe I’m just looking for something to blame for my procrastination and stuckness.

Maybe people do get stuck as season change from one to another, especially when you don’t get spring. I think I know where I’ll live next Dad, somewhere where there is spring. Real spring. And no, the flowers at Miracle Garden don’t count.

I’m looking forward to doing more side projects this year. I can’t get myself to start working on them though no matter how many Paul Arden and Austin Kleon books I read. They do help, but I suppose the real problem is me. Yeah, I think the problem is me. Lately, I’ve been fixated on finding ways to tell the person next to me that I’m not Google and that I don’t have answers to all his questions. And, I don’t want to spend any of my time solving his problems.

Speaking of books Dad, something we both love, I’ve been frequenting bookstores lately, unfortunately, it means more unread books on the bookshelf.

Hopefully, before summer ends this year I’ll be like Bob Dylan’s successful man; ”A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night, and in between, he does what he wants to do.”

I’ll see you soon.

Yesterday morning, my mom messaged me that she wants to take my dad to the hospital because he’s been ill since his biopsy, three days ago. Late last night, the meds I’m taking kicked in, it sucks the happiness in life (relax, I’m currently emotional so this is a bit dramatic) for some reason and causes me insomnia, I got so anxious because I suddenly realized I forgot to call home to check upon him.

All’s well that ends well, today I found out that he’s recovering fine and the result of the biopsy is benign. I asked him if he still smokes to which he replied, “Why? Are you sending me boxes of cigarettes?”.

Tell the people you love that you love them.