So I have survived Ramadan. Nearly. I fully thought I’d end up blogging/ranting about how oppressive it was but I’ve been too tired to care. I’d leave work sometime after 3pm and flop on the sofa with whatever rubbish I’d bought from the shop on the way home. I now have an unhealthy addiction to spicy Cheetos to the point I’m slightly orange.
It’s been great for my bank balance too. I can easily spend 10 hours in Avenues mall without realizing but when you can’t stop for food or a coffee you tend to abandon shopping after a few hours. It’s that or hide all day and head out for dinner followed by shopping. I’ve done that a few times but by 10pm it’s time to give in and go home shattered.
So the end is in sight. Or should be. You see, as annoying as the start of Ramadan was because we had to wait for the ‘right moon’ we are again beholden to this and it’s even more frustrating. We knew all week that Ramadan should end on Thursday or Friday and therefor we’d have time off. Then someone threw a spanner in the works and announced it could be as early as Wednesday. This got exciting as it meant 5 days off and not 4. So Tuesday night I sat waiting for the text from Muslim colleague that never came. All Wednesday