Gods I Believe In

Oh, werd?
It is December. That means there are several holidays to celebrate and several gods to argue the relative worths of. This time of year, when working outdoors, one is reminded of one's mortality, and it is at those times of vulnerability that humans turn to the supernatural. Here, now, is the pantheon of gods that I depend on as a winter canvasser:
1) The God of Hot Water:
This god is particularly fickle. No matter the prayers you utter as you commit to shampooing your hair, the God of Hot Water may choose to smite you with freezing spray. Should you try to outwit this god, by turning the cold water all the way off and the hot water on full power, it will revel in demonstrating its power to you by restoring the hot water and scalding your scalp. By attempting to thwart the will of the God of Hot Water, you invite its full wrath and fury.
2) The Burb Guardian (also known as June's Guardian):
The Burb Guardian is a benevolent lesser god that watches over nonprofit vehicles to ensure the safety of those inside. No matter how many people sit in front of the back windows to obscure the rear view, empty water bottles roll under the brake peddle, or phone calls the driver answers, the burb will not get in an accident. The Burb Guardian creates a defensive forcefield to protect the passengers. I have to believe in this god because I frequently need to stop watching the road in order to count checks, add up stats, or console a sad trainee. During these moments, I must take it on faith that the frustrated canvasser-driver, fresh off a disappointing night of being told by rich people not to knock when it's snowing, won't turn the burb into oncoming traffic. If he/she did, though, the Burb Guardian would find a way to clear the road for us. Really.
3) Dogs:
Dogs (like Jesus) are God walking amongst us. Their endless joy reminds us that life is to be savored, even when snow turns to sleet turns to freezing rain. Dogs always support our environmental goals despite their masters' concerns that global warming is a myth perpetuated by Big Solar and Al Gore. Dogs also offer a convenient place to warm freezing fingers.
4) The Canvassing Gods:
The Canvassing Gods are an unclear number of mischievous but benevolent gods who monitor the karma of canvassing. If you persevere through a four and a half hour streak of miserableness, they will reward you at 8:45pm with a giant check and a mug of hot chocolate. When the weather verges on dangerous, they place a Dunkin Donuts in an otherwise completely residentially-zoned neighborhood. (I fully believe that most of these DandDs are ephemeral and disappear at 9:15pm when we drive away for the night.) These same gods will test your faith and loyalty with annoyances such as frozen puddles that smash underfoot, public works trucks that fling salt at you, and contacts who ask you to perform favors such as pushing their car up a snowy hill without reciprocating your kindness. They may place before you a test of character such as a harried mother who needs you to help her show her son calculus or an elderly woman who is lonely and wants you to join her for a dinner of Cup o Noodles. These contacts may write you a $100 check for your efforts, or they may write you a $2 check. Sometimes the will of the Canvassing Gods is not revealed until several houses or several nights later. Ultimately, though, they ensure that a hardworking canvasser will always raise standard (often enough to keep their job and pay their bills) and will always find a hopeful sign of humanity's ultimate goodness that makes them want to come back for more the next night.


(Grammar Caveat: I wrote this after many glasses of wine, so I will edit for spelling and punctuation later.)