Mundane Routine
Swirling the last dregs of my ritual morning brew, I sit at my desk and ponder some of the more difficult issues I face as a development professional in Cambodia… Is it better to risk cancer and use Equal or suck up the calories and use regular sugar? Should I brave non-dairy creamer’s link to Alzheimer’s or deal with my immediate allergies to half-and-half? Is it morally wrong to be addicted to caffeine or is there grace for the western world’s greatest drug for productivity?
In the face of these potentially life threatening, even salvation-deciding decisions, I don’t particularly feel ready to face the decisions I am actually paid to make. But since my dependency on caffeine is dependent upon my paycheck, I will have to set these issues aside and shoulder my responsibility for the fate of impoverished communities in Cambodia.
Yes, it’s a typical day at the office (though of course I write these things figuratively since it’s actually after 5pm and the ritual morning brew has congealed in the bottom of my cup, waiting to be washed in the wee hours of the morning by the faithful house cleaner, Ming, who’s actual name no one seems to know since “auntie” has been her affectionate title for the 4 years she has worked here). Likewise, my brain has congealed inside my head into a sort of gray lumpy mass – which is in fact, what most brains are – and I stare bleary-eyed at my computer screen hoping the world’s problems will solve themselves or that Jesus will come back in the next 15 minutes or that some natural disaster (with no loss of life of course) will require my immediate professional attention.
Since none of these seem to be eminent I begin my day as all great people do; I make a to-do list for the day. Once accomplished I check for any important emails, deleting a profusion of SPAM, followed by placing phone calls to all the important people who should have emailed me. Among several more cups of coffee and a trip to the bathroom I plug away at the day’s responsibilities.
Perhaps you think my writing callous? A cavalier pontification of work that should be sacred & holy… Perhaps. Yet the magnitute of the worlds woes and sufferings is quite a weight to place upon one person’s shoulders. Compassion and self-sacrifice are heavy words which some bare more easily than others and there are times when escape is a necessary tool for survival. And while the plight of the poor is always forefront, like all jobs, routine and mundane characterize many days. No job is all glory and reward. So as the hour-hand of the clock marches its slow trek across the face of time on this dull Tuesday day… I wonder briefly what my wife is cooking for dinner and who will be eliminated this week on American Idol.
