When is a Door Not a Door?

Does everyone remember that riddle from the days when they were young? When is a door not a door? When it is ajar! Ohahahahahaha. Yes, so funny I almost forgot to laugh. Well, in my house today a door was not a door because it became a window. Thanks to the insurance agency who decided that we couldn’t have a door leading off to a second floor porch which didn’t have any railings (BIG DEAL!) we had to put a window in where the door used to be. You might wonder why we just didn’t put in a railing for the porch. Well just two years ago we had a new rubber roof laid down and one is not supposed to puncture the membrane and if we put in a railing they would have to do so in three places. That roof cost over $2500 and I’m not ruining it because an insurance agency thinks I might wander onto a porch in the middle of the night and forget there are no railings. This house is over 100 years old and it’s never had any but suddenly it’s a hazard. Also I was told if a thief was tempted to climb up there and went through the door or fell we would be liable. Fuck that. Since when am I responsible for an adults irresponsible behavior?
So, I hired the same wonderful men that did the work on my front porch, Ken, Bernardo, and John. They got over here at the ungodly hour of 7:45 a.m. which means I was up at 6:00 in the morning. YUCK. Which also means I went to bed early so I would be able to crawl my ass out of bed and not be a zombie. I hate having any people over early in the morning because I like privacy when I take my crap in the morning. I don’t want good looking men standing in the next room. I don’t have one of those Japanese ToTo toilets that play water sounds while I do my business. And I mean business in the morning. Anyone that’s ever taken psychiatric drugs knows that it screws up your intestines and how you go to the toilet. And after all, don’t we all just want to take one good shit each day? That’s why I have to get up extra early, so I can take my Nexium, wait 30 minutes and then eat my breakfast and have my cup of coffee, so I can blast it out in peace and quiet without anyone else standing around. They would thank me anyways. It’s bad enough that the Zoloft makes me pee 100 times after I take it. So, I was running up there what seemed like every ten seconds. They probably thought I was checking out their butts and maybe I was….hahhaha!

At least they removed the door, framed it for the new window, insulated it, put in the new window, and got it all ready for tomorrow. Now all they’ll have to do is the finish work of making the insides look like the surrounding walls and the same outside.  I’ll actually have to get up with an alarm clock tomorrow. I’m not even sure I know how to set it anymore. It’s been forever since I used one and it all seems so foreign to my pea brain. Well, at least Wednesday it will be back to normal I hope. I can get up whenever I wake up and not have to worry about when I go to the toilet.  Hallelujah !!

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “When is a Door Not a Door?

  1. carlarenee45 says:

    Oh that would totally destroy me if I had to deviate from my routine that much so early in the morning! At least it will be over soon. Hang in there. lol

  2. carlarenee45 says:

    HI! I have nominated you for a special award. Please come and check it out! http://carlarenee45.wordpress.com/2012/07/31/a-first-time-for-this-award/

  3. crazybeanrider says:

    I like how something was perfectly okay years ago, and in this day and age everything is now a risk, like people have no common sense.Now you can just climb out the window and enjoy your porch.

What have you got to say

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s