My Thatched Existence

Life is a drag. I’m just gonna stop doing it and go and live in the Bahamas. I can get a job selling coconuts, maybe giving guided tours around the island. They’ll be rich folks who’ll be there on holiday, and I’ll secretly laugh at them when they go back home  to a life of business and commerce and only 25 days of holiday per year. I, on the other hand, will be on holidays all year, forever.

I won’t have to worry about a thing in the Bahamas. Not bills, not taxes, not that timber door replacement I’ve been putting off. That’s the big piece of drama in the house at the moment: what material to use in replacing a damaged door. I think it’d improve the look of the place but Sandra says that she likes the look of the aluminium door, and she’s not planning on budging. That’s the biggest problem this week: the material of the door. Aluminium door frames are nice enough, but I think timber is a better investment and seriously, when did my life come to revolve around DOORS?

Not that I’m saying you shouldn’t worry about what door you have. After all, some people are perfectly content to pour a load of resources into their home. They’re house-proud, and I get that. Home is where the heart is, and you want to be able to come home to doors and windows that you think look nice. But I just wonder if everything would be a lot simpler if I lived in a small thatched hut on an island, where I have exactly one door material and I make it myself. Plus, no one ever sees it because I live in almost total isolation. 

I can’t believe everyone doesn’t just do this. Modern life gives you so many things to worry about, there’s barely a second of peace Maybe we should just get aluminium door replacementwho really cares? In the grand scheme of things, I’m sure both will look just fine. Timber, aluminium, plastic… it doesn’t matter. Sandra can have what she wants, we can stop arguing, and then I can go to live on my island. Everyone is happy.