This morning I locked myself out of my apartment. A hassle. Yes, indeed. Plan "A" involved backing my car out of its parking space and climbing up over my deck. Didn't work. The parking lot is a couple feet too low. Plan "B" was using a credit card, which I never have the patience for. Plan "C" involved using a ladder. Didn't work. I kicked it out from under me while climbing, and dangled from my deck, 12 feet above the blacktop. Lacking the upper body strength to pull myself up, I dropped. Now looking like I'd been mugged, with a ripped shirt, dirty face, and ugly lacerations on both arms, I gave in to plan "D" -- for "David" -- and just kicked my fucking door down.

Problem solved.

If anyone thinks kicking the door down was drastic, keep in mind, five years ago, it would have been the first thing I did. I have grown up, just a little.