And by plot I mean sandstorm.
Air so thick you could cut it with a shovel.
The grit was definitely more noticeable in my mouth, too. Coming out of the gym I almost wanted to cover my face with my shirt. By comparison:
Friday: tall buildings still visible.
But hey, I'm not going to let the sand defeat me. I set out, sheaf of bureaucracy in hand, to get my driver's license. Somewhat ironically, there is no easily discernible address for the Traffic and Licensing Department. Somewhat fortunately, I ran into a kind and helpful Co-Worker of the Blog who not only had her driver's license, but was on her way to Dubai--she offered to drop me off at the correct office.
And so she did. But it was closed, despite assurances to the contrary on the Police Department website. The result, of course, is that I will be getting my license (say it with me!) after tomorrow.
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