Not complaining about #firstworldproblems

Of all the reasons not to have water available, the failure of an electrical pump ranks solidly in the category of a first-world problem.  I got a jug of spring water at the grocery store and silently gave thanks that I decided on a composting toilet.

The nearer end of the park has a temporary supply of water, but here in the meadowland, not so much as a trickle comes from the faucet.  I’m wildly glad that I showered at 6:00 a.m.  Sometimes I wait until evening, since I have no office to which I must go disguised as a lawyer.

I melted a block of ice that I created in the freezer for the evaporative cooler which I returned (twenty-five dollars deducted for shipping) and boiled the leftover water in the kettle to wash dishes.  Fortunately I have clean socks and plenty of leggings, because laundry didn’t get done today.  If I had kept that Honeywell gizmo, I’d have to sacrifice the four trays of ice cubes which might become tomorrow’s wash-water, at least for my teeth and the few areas of my body which will need it if the temperature climbs too high.

But I don’t see this as suffering.  I focus on the remaining Thai soccer players trapped deep in a cave on the other side of a fifteen-inch turn with water rising and oxygen dwindling.  I meditate on the plight of hundreds of children torn from their parents who came to America to save them from violent gangs, drugs, war, and hunger.   I stare in horror at the picture of a 91-year-old grandfather beaten with bricks in Los Angeles and told to “go back to Mexico”.

I look around at the three small fans creating a cross breeze.  I gaze over at my ceiling fan and the little USB personal cooler clamped on my kitchen self.  I remember that I can always drive back to town and get more bottles of the spring water which cost just a dollar for two liters.  I understand how fortunate I am, that the water will be restored tomorrow when the electrician comes and works magic on that pump.  We’ll forget about the twenty-four hours when nobody here could bathe.

Even with the worries which wake me in the middle of the night, I keenly feel the blessings that I often take for granted.  Like running water, no matter that it’s just for 364 days this particular year.  No whining here.  I’ll endure my #firstworldproblems and soldier on.

It’s the ninth day of the fifty-fifth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

3 thoughts on “Not complaining about #firstworldproblems

  1. Anne Orso

    I’m glad you returned the Honeywell contraption. I went to a gathering on banning nuclear weapons and found out Honeywell is one of the biggest contributors of nuclear weapons. There are tons of Honeywell items we use in our homes. I’ve committed to never buying a Honeywell product again. Not even Much boots.

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