The garage door

My garage door hasn't been working for months. The clickers in the car don't work, the buttons outside the door don't work, there are flashing lights, moments when it goes, moments when it gets stuck half way, moments it doesn't move at all.

Maybe I am overanalyzing here, but there's something about the garage door being busted that is eerily similar to my life these days.  The door lets few come in, mostly it keeps people out. It protects the house from  people I don't want in it (one of the first things I absconded from the soon to be ex was his clicker), and at times, allows me a safe harbor for bringing in certain people undercover. Funny thing is, it seems to have a mind of its own. All depends on the day, and I have a sneaking suspicion, the person outside wanting to come in.

Now, bear with me... me as a garage door. Previously, I was the perfect garage door. Shiny, high quality, top of the line, installed and never had to touch me kinda garage door. I opened and closed when told, never flashed any lights, certainly never disobeyed when someone pushed my buttons. Usually, when they pushed, I did as I was told and opened and closed accordingly. Qualities that are admirable in a garage door, but certainly not in me. I can see that now. What was I thinking?

I guess what I am trying to say is that although my garage door needs fixing by the specialist I am waiting to arrive, I kind of like the fact that me and my figurative door are broken. And guess what... I don't need a specialist to fix me. Nope. I like deciding who comes in. I like knowing I can lock people out. I even like my flashing lights. Don't try to push my buttons. I'm deciding who's coming in.

One last thing. My Blue sky would never leave the light on in the garage.