Wardrobe Malfunction...

After a very eventful few months, I have finally managed to move myself (and my 4 van loads of belongings) into my beautiful new 'Breakfast at Tiffanys' apartment. Just like Holly Golightly's famous quote 'If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!' Well, I found my real life happy place, bought some furniture and acquired a cat (thankfully a short term acquisition)…

Like any new apartment anywhere, especially in Dubai, there’s been a few ‘glitches’… like my wardrobe going on fire. Yes, you read correctly. You see, we have beautiful walk in wardrobes (not quite in the same league as Miss Bradshaw ala SATC unfortunately) with lovely spotlights which switch on when you open the doors. Now I love looking at my clothes so open the doors often and when I do, the sparks fly, literally. Flying sparks has prompted a ‘Challenge Anneka’ style of dressing each morning, deciding what to wear before the door is opened, opening the door whilst ducking to avoid flying sparks, trying to keep cat out of the wardrobe, failing to keep the cat out of the wardrobe, reaching up and pulling pre-decided outfit out, trying to coax the cat back out of the wardrobe and shut the door before the fire starts. After a week of practice, I had mastered the art of this and got the routine down to 30 seconds when disaster struck, in my hung over state, I forgot to shut the door and left the room, only to return to when I smelt burning Ralph Lauren (an evening gown as opposed to the short, white haired man you’ll be pleased to know…). After several calls and strong words, Nakheel (who built and ‘service’ the building) agreed to come and look at the problem, any time that was convenient for me. Anytime that was convenient for me between 10 and 4. For 250Dhs per hour. It’s times like this that I miss the presence of a doting boyfriend in my life… I wouldn’t have had to take 2 hours off of work to watch a man screw in a switch tighter and then pay him for the privilege…

With the wardrobe fixed, I breathed a sigh of relief until I woke up this morning to a kitchen tap that was spewing water all over the place… I’m off to call Nakheel (or find a doting boyfriend)….