I don’t like looking at the security camera monitor we have here at work between the hours of 3 and 5am. The cameras are configured to start recording whenever movement is detected. My boss wonders why they record so much at night when there is no movement to send them into record mode. Well I know. They show up when you look at them on the monitor live. They don’t record though. I keep getting shivers. Why did I feel the need to write about this? Because it’s 4:26am and they keep coming back.

Another strange little incident that occurred earlier this week was that someone or something pulled out exactly 14 Christmas lights out of a strand wrapping a decorative pillar on one side of the driveway to the garage here at my workplace. The next day another 14 were pulled out of the opposite side pillar. The guards here thought it was a pretty bizarre act and even discussed how it might have been a squirrel or racoon. I realized tonight that December 6th was the day of remembrance for the Montreal massacre, where on December 6th, 1989 fourteen women were gunned down at a Montreal University. Someone must have been honoring them with this odd act of vandalism. I’m the only one who got it.

I caught someone taking a picture of me on the sly today. I was coding on campus in one of the computer labs. I had my big earmuff headphones on and was listening to Ashanti The sneaky Pete was sitting across and over from me. As I was coding, I could tell he was looking at me through my peripheral vision. I paid attention to it without moving my gaze. His head lingered pointed in my direction, staring at me, I presume. I noticed him raising something slowly and very discretely. With a sudden movement I looked right into his camera with a nasty glare the second he took the shot (I am pretty sure, I didn’t hear a sound. It was digital). He put his head down and wouldn’t look up. His dominant feature was a very egg shaped head reminding me of Kif from Futurama but with glasses. I didn’t confront him but fumed about it for a few minutes before I could get back into my work. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry or flattered. I still don’t know which.