I Closed Twenty Two Doors Today. I Only Opened Nineteen.

Nineteen is the amount of doors I opened today.
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There are four doors in my apartment. In order of most frequently used are the bedroom, bathroom, office, and front door. My day started off by waking up and opening the bedroom floor and bathroom, followed by their immediate closure as I ran back into my room to avoid getting stuck counting the linoleum tiles on the floor of the bathroom.
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That's two.
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After staring at the ceiling for three hours, trying to fall back asleep and simultaneously counting the number of different patterns on the ceiling (there were 353), I gave up on my requisite eight hours and fifteen minutes of sleep required for an adult of my age and weight. This was followed by the bedroom door being opened and closed, making the total number of openings to three and total closing of three.
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After that was an uneventful trip to the living room to turn on my TV to drown out the sounds of my neighbor's morning noises.
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Whatever those two are doing over there is not normal! Who the hell makes that many happy noises during sex?
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From ten-thirty AM to three PM I opened and closed the refrigerator door twice to retrieve breakfast and a Dr. Pepper as an after breakfast drink.
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I apologize, there are five doors in my apartment. My list of doors, in descending amount of use, are bedroom, refrigerator, bathroom, office, and front door.
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The refrigerator made the total openings to five and closings to five.
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At three thirty PM my doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of my weekly grocery delivery. The peephole in my front door allowed me to see that the delivery guy was wearing a button up shirt with seven buttons. It looked like the grocery store finally took notice of the note I left about prime numbers so I was able to let the delivery guy into my apartment. Of course I was the one who opened the front door and refrigerator door.
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I may let a man with a prime number of buttons into my house, but who lets a complete stranger open their own doors?
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That brings the total number of openings and closings to eight. Front door, refrigerator, then front door again.
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After nervously sitting on the couch trying not to clean the floor the delivery guy walked across I decided to do the most calming thing I could think of and went to take a shower. After I let the water wash my nervous twitches away I opened and closed the bathroom door before opening and closing the door of my bedroom.
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At six thirty PM that brought the total number of openings to ten and the total number of closes to ten. Another series was needed to get out of the bedroom and dinner from the fridge when the evening news came on. I watched it for about twenty minutes before I realized that I was on my thirteenth opening to grab my after dinner Dr. Pepper. While a prime number was good for clothing, it was always a bad sign when it came to door closings. The last time I went to bed and left the door closings to a prime number my cousin Romero died in a car accident.
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But of course that was idiotic. After I calmed down enough to think about it rationally I realized that I had to go into my bedroom at least once. As long as I went into the bathroom exactly three times I would be able to get into my room for the night without hitting a prime number on the doors.
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Thankfully I was able to do that, so as I headed towards my bedroom and the end of my day I felt pretty calm as I got up and headed there for a good even twenty on the door openings.
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But my twentieth series couldn't be had as I looked at the open door to my bedroom.
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I turned around and went to the front door.
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Locked and closed.
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Seeing as I followed the delivery man from the front door, to the kitchen, and back to the front. I started off the day with five closed doors in my house. I live alone and no one comes to see me since my cousin Romero got hit by that drunk driver. And with my most recent bathroom visits that brought the total number of door openings and closings to nineteen.
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Which should be made into an even twenty, but that open door screamed at me. Every one of my days is ended with a double check of every closed door in the house before I enter my bedroom for the night and get my requisite eight hours and fifteen minutes of sleep.
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So there should never be an open door.
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Ever.
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If I went into that bedroom right now and closed the door that would leave the total number of door closings to twenty and the total number of door openings to nineteen.
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While the whole thing bothered me, seeing as there wasn't any possibility of me leaving a door open, the two numbers together left me with a good feeling. Not as good as twenty or fourty to be sure. But I could deal with thirty-nine.
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Compromises are what make life work.
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So I closed the door and went to sleep.
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A loud crashing disturbed my slumber at two thirteen AM. The source of the sound was immediately obvious as the moonlight from the hallway leaked into the open door of my bedroom.
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But it wasn't the only door that was open. When I went to the bedroom door to close it I saw the bathroom door was open. I turned to my left to see the office door, which hasn't been unlocked in a week, fully open with streaming moonlight through the window.
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I'm locked in my bathroom right now. With closing my bedroom and bathroom door behind me that leaves me with a total of twenty two closed doors.
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Twenty two closed doors.
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And I only opened nineteen.
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r/cawdor23


Source.