on joining a cult

I'm not sure how it happened.  One day everything was normal, but slowly it dawned on me.  I'm in a cult.

Before, people were jerks and ignored you when you passed by on the sidewalk, even when you said hello.  Now, you don't even need to say hello before they smile and start talking in your direction.

Before, I went through life missing the one thing that all members of this cult have.  Now I see them everywhere.

Before, I was able to go on my merry way without having to worry about what I was carrying.  Now I typically am carrying a bag full of something whenever I leave the house in certain company.

No, not a religious cult.  Don't worry.  I'm not about to drink the koolaid.

It's a more sinister cult.  A cult that I unwittingly joined when I became a dog owner.  People smile when they see the puppy jumping and wagging her tail.  Dogs are everywhere, and I can approximately tell their age, at least general stage of life.  I find I'm always carrying a bag of poo for most of my walks.

It was an observation I made shortly after getting Izzie, but now I see it moreso.  I'm not sure if any other dog owners realize they are part of this cult.  But they are.  And there's no way out, it seems.

Sigh.

on working from home

For the past 6 months, I have been working from home.  That means at somewhere between 8 and 9 every morning I sequester myself into one of the spare bedrooms upstairs and spend the next 8ish hours typing away or talking to people on the phone using my fancy futuristic headset that reminds me of my call centre days. 

I wasn't sure how I'd be able to cope going into this, but I can now say it's not so bad. 

• Flexible schedule.  
• I can wear whatever I want, although I usually go through the morning routine of breakfast, shower, clean clothes before starting - it doesn't feel right when I skip any of that.  
• No distractions... ok, maybe not so much.

Some of the downsides I've found include:

• Lack of social opportunities - I've gone weeks between sojourns to the office, but it seems others in my group do the same.
• More distractions - In the winter I was trying to stop a squirrel from stealing my bird seed.  Then we got a dog.  A DOG!
• No one to keep an eye on you - I went to the office a few weeks ago and my boss was right behind me.  I was much less distracted that day.

After a few months I wasn't enjoying things so much.  But I realized I had to take the initiative to get over the hurdles I was facing.  That's funny because my level of initiative isn't so great... It's a skill I need to work on, and I have.  Call people when required, distract the dog for long enough to get a project complete, make lists of things that need to get done.

Still not 100% sold on this job, but it is getting better.  I have some paths forward career-wise, but I will need to take certain steps to get there.  It requires things that don't come naturally to me, like ambition, old fashioned gumption, and sticktoitiveness.  I'm always up for learning new things.  Sometimes it's harder to focus on those things that build your character, but after a few years of having a job I wasn't passionate about (although the people were great), it's something I have to try.

going to the dogs

For Christmas last fall, I put together a box that had a number of cue cards in it and gave it to R.  On the outside, I wrote 2016 goals.  On each of the cue cards inside, I wrote a goal I wanted to achieve with her in 2016.  Things like:

• Make our house our own
• Go on a vacation somewhere new
• Spend more time in our community
• Work towards welcoming newcomers to our country

The last card, intentionally so, had "Welcome a furry friend" on the front and on the back, "Stop smiling, you've convinced me."  So after 5 years of trying to convince me that a puppy was the best thing ever, I finally agreed to take the plunge and get a dog.  Not that I thought it was the best thing ever, just that I thought it would make my wife very happy and, in turn, would stop her from pestering me to get a puppy every 6 seconds.  I was almost right.

So after doing some research, we decided on a breed and R started researching breeders.  Finally we found one that had a Cockapoo puppy for a less than ridiculous price and R called to get her name on the list for the puppies that would be ready in June.  Near the end of April, she got a phone call asking if we'd be interested in picking up a puppy in 2 days.  And thus the goal was fulfilled.  We welcomed Izzie (Short for Lady Isabelle Crawley - yes, we were watching Downton Abbey at the time) into our home.

Robin had a dog growing up, but this is my first dog.  I never fully realized how much work it is to raise a dog.  When you're visiting someone with a dog, you look at all the things they do as cute or somewhat annoying but you only have to deal with it for a short time.  But when you own the dog, it's always there and everything can either be cute or annoying, depending on how you look at it.

Take for instance attacking feet as you walk.  It's cute to see her pounce on your foot and wrap her legs around your leg while travelling across the room, yet annoying to have her biting your pants or, even worse, your toes.  It hurts!  Another example: whimpering when you leave the room.  Cute that she misses you and thinks you've abandoned her forever, but annoying when it gets loud and piercing 2 seconds later and continues that way.  We were heading out one night and encountered the neighbour on the way out the door.  "I know that sound," she said.  You can hear it from the road at times with the windows and doors closed.  Perhaps this means we just need better windows that are more soundproof, but the separation anxiety is something that we'll need to work on.

So in the past 2 months, I've caught her going to the washroom inside countless times, been bitten, scratched, growled at, and barked at, but I've also been slept on, licked clean, had a constant tag-along, seen a number of cute behaviours, and had someone to keep me company while spending most of my workday at home alone.

R thinks I love the dog.  I'm only admitting I don't hate the dog.  Let's just call it a step in the right direction.

here we go... again

Last summer, I attempted a challenge where I was to do 15 minutes of something every day for 100 days.  I decided that writing here was a great idea.  So I started and tried and tried my hardest.  I made it about 35 days before falling flat on my face.  Partially because vacations got in the way and threw me off my groove, and partially because writing in a ridiculously hot apartment wasn't very appealing, but mostly because I gave up on the habit.

The challenge has surfaced again this year.  And so I'm back.  To try again.  Writing.  Things of substance.  In the cell phone generation where thoughts to the world are 140 characters long, and your popularity is based on how many likes you receive, writing in a blog seems so 2004.  Like the year when I started posting things on here.  Yikes.

But anyway, I think I can do it.  I have a tendency of making sweeping proclaimations about something and then falling hard.  Fast.  No more ice cream.  Always getting up for a walk in the morning.  Reading a new book every month.  Fail.  Fail.  Fail.  F.A.I.L.

But I'm sure can do it.

If I miss a day, it's not the end of the world.  If write less than 15 minutes every day, it's not the end of the world.  If the power goes out and I can't reach the Internet, it's not the end of the world.

I know I can do it.

One day at a time.  One step on the road.  One word ahead of another. 

The least I can do is try.