The rushed life: Burdened by modernity
Maria and John are a rather successful couple. They wake up in the morning almost at the same time to starty their busy day.
They freshen up and head to the kitchen.
John reads his newspaper at the kitchen table, while sipping on his usual Colombian coffee.
Maria, at this time of the day, usually meanders through the hall, half asleep, holding a pile of dirty clothes in a tight embrace, ready to flung them into the washing machine.
She mumbled orders to the maid to wake her daughter up and to get her ready for the daycare center.
In total, Maria and John, spend ten minutes each morning at the kitchen table while exchanging few, furtive words, before setting off to their respective jobs.
Around eight at night, they gather again around the dinner table, complain about coworkers and employees while swallowing their food before their taste buds had any chance of registering the taste .
The food is digested in silence, while a condensed summery of all the horrors that supposedly happened in places, the name of which they couldn't even pronounce, enamated from a TV perched in front of them.
After exchanging a few niceties and giving their daughter a furtive cuddle, they leave her to the care of the nanny, review their emails, prepare a few papers for the next day's meeting and set off to sleep.
Maria, at this time of the day, usually meanders through the hall, half asleep, holding a pile of dirty clothes in a tight embrace, ready to flung them into the washing machine.
She mumbled orders to the maid to wake her daughter up and to get her ready for the daycare center.
In total, Maria and John, spend ten minutes each morning at the kitchen table while exchanging few, furtive words, before setting off to their respective jobs.
Around eight at night, they gather again around the dinner table, complain about coworkers and employees while swallowing their food before their taste buds had any chance of registering the taste .
The food is digested in silence, while a condensed summery of all the horrors that supposedly happened in places, the name of which they couldn't even pronounce, enamated from a TV perched in front of them.
After exchanging a few niceties and giving their daughter a furtive cuddle, they leave her to the care of the nanny, review their emails, prepare a few papers for the next day's meeting and set off to sleep.
Athough living in the same house, they are miles away from each other. Aquainted strangers stripped from the essence of life and burdened with the senseless tasks of modernity.
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