Recently, a very important person in my life told me “there is a great satisfaction in being able to lock a door behind you.”

It’s funny how you can be in a brand spanking new place, be working on unboxing, hanging your pictures on the wall, boiling noodles, et al.  But you never think about your door.  You never pause when you get home, other to take your coat off once you’ve reached the forced heat in your apartment.  You just spin rhythmically, take a knee to your door to make sure it’s shut, and turn a couple knobs.

Then someone you know and love goes and makes the idea of a door this whole romantic thought previously never conceived.

Here I sit, behind my locked door, listening to ZZ Top loudly to drown out my dishwasher, and I do feel satisfaction.  Thank you, Anita.