3/01/2017

on the front door

I have a few dreams in life. One of them is, that if I ever buy my own home {which, no, don't want to, never}, to have a yellow front door. Another is to be one of those people whose front door is always open to friends and family. I have these grand visions of being one of those people who is always ready to welcome guests to their home with a moments notice. One with baked goods at the ready. And I'll revel in these moments as if they are caffeinated and giving me energy to last until bed.

Sadly, or not, I don't know... I am not that person. Sure I still want a yellow front door {but no mortgage, thanks, too adult...} but I am never going to be someone who enjoys having people over. I am always going to be terrified of my front door. I am never going to enjoy opening it. A knock at the door, unless I'm expecting it fills me with dread.

Sure, I have bad front door/unexpected guest memories but I don't think my uneasiness is that easy. I'm pretty sure it's deep rooted in the fact I, quite simply, dislike people and need to be eased into seeing someone. I am a planner by nature. I detest surprises and if I'm going to see someone {unless you're someone really special} I like to know at least two days in advance {a week is even better}. It's sad and, sure, maybe even somewhat pathetic that I have to psych myself up to see people, to train my brain to not have that instinctual flight response but it is what it is.

So, the other night, when some random knocked on my door I instantly panicked. Not just because I'd just read about a break-in in the area that morning or because the lateness of the hour {after 7.00pm -- please, my child is getting ready for bed} but also because I was bra-less {as I often am} and in my pyjamas {ditto}. My hair was frizzy and still damp from recently being washed. My eyebrows, undone. I did not need to be answering the door to some random while I looked like shit {and as I was deep in -- I'm really sick mode}. 

Sore throat and croaky voice aside. Is it just me? Or is answering the door a normal fear that other people have? Is it up there with answering your phone? Or saying hello to a random acquaintance while out and about? 

What I wish is that there was some kind of law that prohibited people from just turning up and knocking on your door. Any door knockers, unless they are a delivery person or an invited guest should really need to give two weeks {or more} notice in writing and, still, then, only with express consent. So, if you simply ignore their letter {as I would, most likely, often do} they can't just turn up two weeks from postage date. This would surely prevent me hiding under a blanket on my couch, waiting for the random door knocker to leave. Right? 

Right.

And don't even get me started on the people who hang around for five minutes or more just knocking. After the third knock you should know it's like fetch. It's never going to happen. Move on with your life and stay the fuck away from mine.

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I'm just a dream aren't I?

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