So, this morning I'm walking from the car to go into the building where I work. (Oddly, I do that almost every day) There's a big old-fashioned wooden door that is the particular entrance that I use. It's always locked, and I do have a key. But THIS morning, I walked up to the door, all the time clicking the electronic clicker thingy that opens my car door. I wasn't even thinking about it, just expected it to open the door for me in much the same way you expect the door at the grocery store to open as you step on the black mat in front of it. You know if that door didn't open, you'd walk right into the thing and break your nose.

Well, I would anyway.

I know this because of The Time I Walked into a Door Carrying a Basketful of Laundry. It was at this apartment complex where I lived with one of my many ex-girlfriends. We'll call this one She-Ra (she was, and is, very strong). I was carrying a basketful of laundry to the laundry room, which was in the building adjacent to the one we lived in. There was a foyer I had to pass through with a wooden door with decorative moulding. The doorknob had been broken for months -- you didn't have to turn it, just push on the door and go out. Unbeknownst to me, they'd finally gotten around to fixing the doorknob. So I go trucking through the foyer with my laundry out in front of me and try to open the door by pushing it with the laundry basket. The fact that the door failed to open in no way slowed my forward motion. I kept right on going. The basket crumpled. My bottom lip met the decorative moulding and split open. To add insult to injury (a recurrent theme in my life), I was sporting a very painful cold sore on my bottom lip already. Actually, that might be more like adding injury to insult. Or injury to injury. Whatever. It hurt. She-Ra was inappropriately amused.

I have also been known to walk right through a screen door. We lived in Canada for a while when I was a kid and had a sliding screen door out onto our patio, When it was dark outside, you couldn't really see the screen. The first time, I merely walked into it, stretched it, bounced back, felt stupid, opened the door and went out. The second time, I walked through the thing. When I walk, I go like I'm going somewhere. I have a lot of momentum. I walked into the door, stretched it, briefly registered that there was some resistance, and kept right on walking. Tore the screen right out of the frame. This all happened in just a fraction of a second. I got this really cute little abrasion on my nose with the pattern of the screen door.

The good news is that before I banged my face into the door into my building this morning, I realized that the clicker wasn't going to work. No insult, no injury.

This time.

On a completely different subject, I've been asked a couple of times where the link to Jadyn's blog went. I lost it when I got rid of that picture of myself that never would display. I'll put it back as soon as I figure out how.