I dunno if I’ve told y’all this before, but I have some strange tendencies. As one of my bosses used to tell me — frequently and playfully (but she meant it) — “You’re not normal.” And I’m not. But that’s okay. Who wants to be normal anyway? Still, not being normal can sometimes lead to inconveniences.
I didn’t realize it until a while ago, but I get… anxious if I cannot see the front door of the house I’m living in. My bedroom also has to be near to the front door as well. I don’t sleep well if my bedroom is too far away from the front door (as many Master Bedrooms are unfortunately). Even when I looking at motor homes, I picked one that was all one room and not one that had a separate bedroom because I really do prefer to see, or at least be aware, of who is coming in and out of my front door. I also get anxious if there are too many exterior doors on my home. Two is perfect, thank you. Three I can handle, after that, I get nervous.
So anyway, it occurred to me a while back that I cannot see the front door to my home because whoever put this home here flipped it around and built an extension to the house where the front door should be. What we’re using as the front entrance is what was originally intended to be the mud room. Now, I could try to convince my mind that the door to the mud room is the front door, but yeah… that doesn’t work. I have a security system that looks down our driveway, so I can see anyone driving up to our house, but for some reason, that hasn’t helped either.
The thing is… the only room I feel comfortable in is the living room, and this house has seven rooms (not counting the extension since we’re renting that out). I sometimes step out of my comfort zone and go into the other room, I guess it’s the family room. It faces the same way as the living room and I can look out over the front yard, so if anyone drives up to the house, I’ll see them… but after an hour or two, I’m back in the living room. Edited to clarify: I do actually sleep in a bedroom, but otherwise I spend most of my waking time in the living room.
I wish I’d known this about myself before we bought the house… because it’s not a bad house (okay, it’s old and falling apart). But we’ve been here for three? maybe four years now I think, and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why I haven’t felt comfortable here when while we were shopping for houses, this one seemed like a good fit. But our brains are a mystery, dear reader. I can’t explain this need to see the front door… maybe it’s hyper-vigilance, maybe it’s just me being weird. But that’s going on my list for the next time we go house shopping. Open concept-ish… Plus no carpet. Carpet + pets = bad breathing for me.
Anyway, I thought I’d share that bit of strangeness with y’all. For no particular reason other than it was on my mind.