Sometimes I catch myself doing domestic, responsible tasks, and I feel grown up. When did that happen? I draw the curtains closed and check all the doors are locked before going to bed. I'm the last one up at night, usually, and I collect random glasses, turn off the printer, and straighten up. I feel like a parent after the kids have gone to bed. A touch of normalcy in a nomadic life.
Some of what I'm doing is due to my role, since the logistician is responsible for hygiene and security. But the log is not a maid, and it's not necessarily me who is up latest at night. I'm locking doors because I'm a responsible adult. The logistician part comes in as I call a network of contacts to localize that last grenade blast, as I ask the watchman for a translation of the local radio announcement that tells the route of the anti-Rwandan protests being organized every weekend, as I label the security lights deterring theives from jumping the barbed-wire-topped walls.
You know, everyday adult things.
Some of what I'm doing is due to my role, since the logistician is responsible for hygiene and security. But the log is not a maid, and it's not necessarily me who is up latest at night. I'm locking doors because I'm a responsible adult. The logistician part comes in as I call a network of contacts to localize that last grenade blast, as I ask the watchman for a translation of the local radio announcement that tells the route of the anti-Rwandan protests being organized every weekend, as I label the security lights deterring theives from jumping the barbed-wire-topped walls.
You know, everyday adult things.
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