Have you noticed how nothing is simple anymore? The smallest task seems to get layers of complication. Like this one did.
Replacing Doors- #483
We are replacing all the exterior doors in our house. It’s part of a larger renovation and we decided to go all the way and replace them all. Sounds easy, right?
The house already has doors, so we know what size they need to be. You just tell the guy, “Give me another door like this one.” Right? Not by a long shot.
There are so many decisions to be made over a simple thing like replacing the doors. Should they be wood or metal…should they swing in or out…do we want them to be insulated…should they have regular glass or thermal glass…what kinds of knobs or handles or hinges…should the sliding doors be replaced with new sliders or would French doors be more contemporary, more practical.
Then there is the issue of cost. Do we want the practical line, the affordable line, or the beautiful classic line? One door has stained glass in it. Do you know how many choices of stained glass there are?
When the man said, “replace the doors,” I envisioned a question that would take ten seconds to answer. Yes or no. Done. Not so.
A month from now, we may have all our options pinned down and be ready to make our decisions. The doors will open to our future, in time, in a lot of time from now.
Have you noticed; nothing is simple anymore?
Speaking of simple, why is everything so difficult to open? From aluminum cans to microwave boxes and plastic containers. They all seem to fight me. Is this what happens as you get older or has someone orchestrated this daily challenge?