Wanting to Change Your Life Doesn't Mean It's Going to Happen

Peter Van Husen is handsome, brave, kind but unfortunately not too bright. While he wants to change his ways, he doesn't seem to have the basic will power to do that. Peter is trying but he's not trying hard enough...

"Why does my life continually get messed up?" Peter Van Husen asked himself after returning to his empty house. Empty house, empty life--all exactly what he deserved. He never should have cheated on his wife with Mavis Schuyler. He never should have gotten seduced into thinking that he'd be able to leave his working class world and move up into the world that Mavis inhabited. If only he hadn't been such an idiot...

Resolutely, Peter put all thoughts of what a complete idiot he was out of his head and focused instead on getting a cold beer out of the fridge and a pizza out of the freezer. What was done was done. He needed to think about his future and what he could do about it.

The house phone rang just as Peter was settling into his recliner. Glaring at it, he made a mental note to cut off service the next day. A house phone was hardly necessary when the only people who called him on it were telemarketers and the pharmacy calling to remind him that his prescriptions were filled.

"Yes?" he barked into the receiver.

"Don't bite my head off," the female voice on the other end of the line requested. "I only called to see if you're free for dinner."

"Who is this?"

The woman chuckled softly. "Sandy Cooper. I'm hurt that you didn't recognize my voice, Peter. If you'd give me your cell number, we wouldn't have this problem."

"Sandy." Peter paused. He liked Sandy well enough but truthfully, she scared him a little. She was so aggressive, so sure of herself, so positive that being with her for an evening was like winning the lottery--which it kind of was if all Peter was interested in was a meaningless night of lust. But what about Mindy? He could hardly go out for dinner--and later to bed--with Sandy while at the same time pursuing a relationship with her sister.

"Are you there? Hello?"

"I'm here. I was just thinking."

"Don't do that," Sandy advised. "I never do. It gives you wrinkles. So are you free for dinner?"

Peter smelled the pizza burning in his oven and the beer he was drinking suddenly tasted  bitter and cheap. Dinner at a real restaurant with unburned food and a better grade of beer sounded very inviting.

"Why not?" he asked. "I'll pick you up in half an hour."

Replacing the receiver, it occurred to Peter that there was a reason why his life continually got messed up: it happened over and over and over because he was the one in charge of it.