Samuel Peeples' Evolution

I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions. It annoys me that they are all the rage in January. Accomplishments shouldn’t depend on a calendar. I've never made one but I would consider it if they were as great as everyone thinks. My exercise facility sees a frenzy of new faces (similar to churches at Christmas or Easter time). Until February they’ll be in my way. Obviously, as far as a motivational catalyst, they aren’t effective.

I prefer to look at the year as a whole. I may try a few new things or travel somewhere new. You know, explore strange new worlds; seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go...What? I have to keep it simple; otherwise a new year will only mean more work and I’m lazy.

The closest thing I have to a resolution this month is to relax. My stress level was so high in December; it’s hard to come down cold turkey. I think it fueled me through the whole month and now I can’t function without it. People, a receptionist doped up on stress? It’s not pretty.

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Cars Suck; Home Edition

It was bound to happen. I decided to drive the nice car yesterday. By nice I mean, nicer then our other car. Three blocks from my mom’s house the power steering cuts out. Or, as I look it, a reminder of how little upper arm strength I have. I managed to make it to my mom’s house, but that's it. All things considered, I was lucky. I didn’t get hurt, I could safety pull over, and I have free towing. Before you mention it, driving a car after the power steering goes out is bad.

For nine years, I’ve had AAA. I’ve used them four times. Once I picked up a giant bolt in my tire and needed it repaired. Another time I locked the keys in the car while it was running (this should not be possible!). The other two times? I needed a tow because my power steering cut out. What are the odds of that? I might be wrong, but I get the impression this isn’t common. It’s all timing and coincidence. I wish I knew what caused it, but I have a feeling both times it was a fluke. We all know I excel at those.

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On the Seventh Day...

When I started working, they told me the hours would get easier. They lied. Every morning I wake up late and tired. Mondays are especially rough because I sleep in on Sundays. Once bedtime rolls around, I’m not aware how late it is. Last night was no exception. After buying my tickets to Brewfest, I went back to watching old episodes of House. Around 2 a.m. I call it a night. Five hours sleep is functional.

At 6 a.m., our lousy condo neighbours decided to ring our doorbell and bang on the door. Startled and confused, we thought we had imagined it. Half an hour later it happens again. We hear loud talking. Convinced something might be wrong, we answer the door. Their lower condo unit was flooding and could we be to blame? We don’t share a wall with their unit (they share 3 but not with us). They let us go back to sleep but continue to yell outside our window.

They amaze me. Personally, I would be inside trying to prevent further damage and calling the emergency number. Think much?

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Et Tu, Facebook?

Everyone knows I like twitter. I enjoy the random, semi-personal aspect of it. I don’t, however like Facebook. It fills me with regret, angst, and doubt. Facebook reminds me of school when you had to pick a group. I was plagued that they may not want to play with me. It brings back those memories; connects me with old friends, classmates, and bullies. Because of this, I wait for a friend request. I figure it means they want to play.

Today, I boldly sought someone out. While searching, I came across another name. A name that should be in blue, only it was black. I was removed! I spent most of junior high with this guy. We had a falling out, but later became Facebook friends. He has over 400 friends, yet singled me out. I’m not the most prolific user, but to burn me again?

It's proof I need to spend less time worrying about old friends. Being friends 15 years ago doesn’t mean we have anything in common now. Twitter is customized to my interests, not who I feel obligated to talk to.

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My Dog Is Better Than Your Dog

Pet Owners. I find them fascinating. Over the weekend, I guess my boss’ neighbour’s dog was attacked and killed by another neighbour’s pit bull. Chaos ensued. As an outsider (AKA a non pet owner) it’s hard to have the same emotions. Two dogs mauling each other doesn’t seem weird to me. It sounds natural. I would imagine survival of the fittest also applies to dogs. Granted, it’s sad when anything innocent dies, but both dogs had equal opportunity. Others at work had a more...violent take. I overheard and I quote: “If that dog had attacked my dog, I would have killed it. I would have killed it and thrown it in the pond. Or burned it.”

I get that pets are like children for some people. What I don’t get is how this can turn into homicidal rage. Protecting a pet or a child is natural. Wanting to kill and burn something, anything, is disturbing. Maybe I won’t get it until I have a pet or child of my own. Until then, I’m going to hope like crazy that psychosis is not a normal side effect.

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