The Pathetic Trainer

It’s been almost six months since I started this new job at the maternity hospital. So much to tell, with so little time available. It is this fact, the lack of time available for reading/writing/having fun, that is haunting me. I’m afraid I’m turning into a character I’ve been despising for years, that is, an individual running on money, just like how a car runs on gas.

It’s surprisingly thought provoking when I recall the time I used to work in Biomedical Engineering, going hand in hand with this trainer whose morals were curiously questioned, and the overflowing enthusiasm I had back then. Back then, I always wanted to do the best I can, learn the best I can, and help as many people as I can. And here comes the funny part: I did not take a single penny. I somehow had the power and will to work overtime, help this and help that, all for the sake of, what exactly? I don’t know. Professionalism maybe? Conscience? Good will?

But that doesn’t matter. What matters is the powerful dedication that I had during these months as a Biomedical Engineer, that came to fade the moment I started working in return for a salary. Something happened, deep down inside, the moment I received my first salary in my hands from our financial manager. What happened exactly? I have no idea, but I have some clues to work on.

My dedication for work began to change its skin, little by little, gradually turning into a dedication for money. I’ve become motivated to do this and do that only if a material return is promised. The thought of helping someone with a job is slowly being haunted by the thought:

If you're good at something, never do it for free!

My interest in doing the things that I love is deliberately coming to a halt. I rarely play my guitar nowadays, I never open my reader to read what my fellow bloggers have to say. Even Facebook, the one tool that I use to interact with my old school friends, is being affected and slowly becoming an occasional thing.

All of a sudden, I find myself in this trainer’s shoes. I remember the times he used to rest, counting remaining hours/minutes/seconds to go home with a day’s money he did not work for. All I thought of back then was; What is wrong with this guy? Why is he acting so pathetically, carelessly not worrying about his duties, and just waiting for the end of the month to receive his salary? And before I know it, I became the pathetic trainer.

When did money become my number one interest? Does the lifestyle of paying your own bills and expenses have to do with any of this? Or is it the monetary system as a whole that is responsible for exposing people to such behavior? What about you? Have you ever been in a situation where you’ve noticed how voluntary work can be more sincere?

 

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