The true enemy revealed

I have many enemies.  Pants.  Shoes.  Ninjas dressed in yellow.  But one of my greatest foes is doors.

There are a few acceptable reasons to have a door.  My fridge door, for example, keeps my food cold.  My oven door keeps me from roasting to death.  My balcony door keeps me from freezing in winter.  These are annoying doors, but their utility outweighs their intrinsic evil.

But my home is *full* of doors with no redeeming value.  Recently I struck a blow against the tyranny of doors and took off the two cupboard doors that have most annoyed me in the past.  Now my kitchen is far superior.

It is glorious.  Beautiful, functional, clean, neat.  Now when someone is using the counter and I want a glass, I don't have to caution them about danger, wait for them to move back, open the door, reach around it, and fumble to get the right glass.  Instead I just reach in and get it, smooth as anything.

You know how often I bash my head on no door at all?  NEVER.  You know how often I bash my head on the old cupboard doors?  SOMETIMES.  Never >  sometimes, when it comes to head/door bashery.

I can just look in and see everything.  No opening one door, realizing the thing I want is behind the other door, and then opening that.  Instead of a piece of furniture whose primary function was to impede my vision and movement, I have empty space, nothing at all, and both my vision and movement run wild and free.

People will no doubt claim that you need bathroom doors.  FAUGH I say.  Bathroom doors just cause mirrors to get foggy and block access to the towels that are hanging on the wall behind the door.  People have bodies under their clothes.  They poop on a regular basis.  We don't need a door to pretend that we aren't naked under it all, or to perpetuate the fiction that we go to the bathroom just to play Candy Crush on our phones.

But when a door is taken off, the resulting free door, loosed from its bondage, must be dealt with.  The solution I have come up with is to store doors behind my curtains in my bedroom, up against the floor to ceiling window.  If you are across the street from my condo you would clearly see a door up against the window, and you might wonder why.  The answer is that it doesn't bother me there.  Those curtails are always closed, it does not block my sight.  I don't want to go through the window and fall to my death, so my movement is free.  Also, I am extremely unlikely to bash my head on it.

While I would rather simply smash the doors, rend them to pieces, watch tiny shards fly past my head as I deliver the deathblow with an axe, this is not to be.  If I end up selling this place someday the new buyers will insist on their being doors.  They will be convinced that plates must be kept hidden, washing machines must be disguised, and food needs to be sequestered away.  We can't have visitors thinking that we clean our clothes, or eat!  What a social disaster that would be!

So the doors will stay until such time as I must reattach them to coddle the foolishness of others.  I despise doors, but not enough to lose money over them.  I am not *that* far gone.