Regarding Firewood.

During my high school years my family lived in the frigid north of Maryland. In this cold frozen wasteland our home was heated by a woodstove. Now I loved this woodstove, for it provided a constant feeling of 'real heat'. You always knew that at any point in the day, you could take your homework, lay down on the carpet at the foot of the stove, and feel warmth seep into your bodies core.

The tradeoff was that it was me and my brothers constant responsibility to bring firewood into the home. A never ending train of wood was necessary throughout the winter to keep this precious warmth alive. Of all the chores I remember being given (and there were many) this is one that I can't recall complaining about, most likely because it was the one chore whose results were most clearly seen.

Now in almost all aspects of the term, I view myself as a 'laid back' kind of guy. And yet somewhere between those wheelbarrow loads of wood and today there has developed an intense pet peeve of people doing their job. Nothing will piss me off faster than someone who has a clearly given job and fails to do it.

The problem, however, is that in real life, when I am not the oldest brother and tasked with the refueling of the iron beast, is that the boundaries of when I get to chew someone out is not nearly as clearly defined as it was when a teenager. The question is further complicated when speaking in the context of the larger Family. In the complex relationship of Brothers and Sisters (and further muddled by work relationships) I typically have no clue when it is actually appropriate to open my mouth.

Meh.

Another reason why responsibility is overrated.