Stop Bitching Already!
Last night we all watched Barcelona kick ManU’s butt as Wusum Hotel. We drank Star beer by the pool and cheered on Barcelona. Then the rains came and we booked it home before the downpour made travel impossible. I really enjoy my life here now, but I just wish I could get my lazy act together.
I have an office in the UN now. It’s a converted shipping container with a table and two chairs. It also has regular power between the hours of 8am and 6pm, steady internet access that only goes about once a day, and air-conditioning that freezes your bones. My work life is getting better.
I feel like a freaking hypocrite. I can talk a good game. I get meetings with country directors. I feel quite snotty when I say things like, “I’m going to the UN, but I have a meeting with the Chief Medical Officer this afternoon at the Ministry of Health.” What a load of crap.
I’ve made friends, a group of about 10 volunteers who live in Makeni. We meet on Friday nights for dinner, have lunch together, and go dancing on the weekends. The ages range from 50 to 22 and no one seems to care. My closest friends are about 8 years younger than I am, but oddly, here that doesn’t seem to matter.
Age doesn’t seem to translate here, because we are all going through the same thing. We all miss sushi and zippy internet. We all have boss who can’t figure how to wined their watch or scratch their ass. And we are all unmotivated fucks.
Now that I’m finally settled I find that, I’m devolving. By the end of the year, I won’t be able to feed or bath myself. Now that I have an office, in the United Fucking Nations Compound, I go to work and stare at blank word documents.
I finished the summer fundraising appeal and organized the donor data. In the “real” world, this should only take about a week to do. I’m on day 46, and I just finished it yesterday. I’ve cultivated a list of 40 foundations to research for writing this Cancer Control grant, but I can’t be bothered to research the foundations or write the grant.
I have a partially written scope of work, a case statement, and crappy outline, and a blank word document. I’m not ready to write it yet.
You would think the lack of TV or any kind of passive entertainment that I would be a workhorse, but now I just stare off into the middle distance thinking of nothing. I would feel horrible about this, but I’m not alone. Everyone feels this way.
But I have a good social life and a proper working environment. Now I just need to prove that I deserve to be here.
I have an office in the UN now. It’s a converted shipping container with a table and two chairs. It also has regular power between the hours of 8am and 6pm, steady internet access that only goes about once a day, and air-conditioning that freezes your bones. My work life is getting better.
I feel like a freaking hypocrite. I can talk a good game. I get meetings with country directors. I feel quite snotty when I say things like, “I’m going to the UN, but I have a meeting with the Chief Medical Officer this afternoon at the Ministry of Health.” What a load of crap.
I’ve made friends, a group of about 10 volunteers who live in Makeni. We meet on Friday nights for dinner, have lunch together, and go dancing on the weekends. The ages range from 50 to 22 and no one seems to care. My closest friends are about 8 years younger than I am, but oddly, here that doesn’t seem to matter.
Age doesn’t seem to translate here, because we are all going through the same thing. We all miss sushi and zippy internet. We all have boss who can’t figure how to wined their watch or scratch their ass. And we are all unmotivated fucks.
Now that I’m finally settled I find that, I’m devolving. By the end of the year, I won’t be able to feed or bath myself. Now that I have an office, in the United Fucking Nations Compound, I go to work and stare at blank word documents.
I finished the summer fundraising appeal and organized the donor data. In the “real” world, this should only take about a week to do. I’m on day 46, and I just finished it yesterday. I’ve cultivated a list of 40 foundations to research for writing this Cancer Control grant, but I can’t be bothered to research the foundations or write the grant.
I have a partially written scope of work, a case statement, and crappy outline, and a blank word document. I’m not ready to write it yet.
You would think the lack of TV or any kind of passive entertainment that I would be a workhorse, but now I just stare off into the middle distance thinking of nothing. I would feel horrible about this, but I’m not alone. Everyone feels this way.
But I have a good social life and a proper working environment. Now I just need to prove that I deserve to be here.