So, I came home from work today, and I was in a fabulous mood because after work I had decided to check out the nearest library because I hadn’t done that yet, and I am so excited because it is awesome! Anyway, I came home from work and things were slightly less awesome.
This is my front door. Specifically, this is about 3 inches above my door knob. Wtf, mate?
I’m not sure if this has been there since I moved in almost two months ago without me noticing, or if this happened recently. It looks painted over, but I guess it could just be that somebody didn’t press very hard when they wrote it. I’m going with option A because I like to sleep at night without worrying about somebody with the wrong address starting a slow campaign to terrorize their “dead beat dad” and instead scaring the shit out of me.
Of course, this initial panic mode was compounded by not knowing if I should bring this to the attention of my apartment management since I don’t know if it has been there or if it’s new. Still haven’t made a decision on that which means I most likely won’t say anything. Anyway, after the panic subsided, my imagination took over because there’s clearly a story in this. If it had said something derogatory about women or retail workers or Pokemon enthusiasts, I would be concerned because it might actually be directed at me. However, to the best of my knowledge, I have no children running around in the world and if I did, I doubt they would be calling me “Dad.” Ergo, it’s creepy that it’s there, but at least it isn’t personal.
Which brings me to the creative blossoming of my mind. First, my mind decided (for my own sanity) that the etching is not new. Then, my mind tried to decide who could have vandalized the door. The reason was obviously daddy issues, but what about the person with said issues? Was he a rebellious teen forced to watch his mother turn tricks to support him? A young 20-something angry that he didn’t have all the opportunities of others his age because his father was a non-entity? Or a middle-aged man who grew up fine under the care of his mother and loving step-father but is now worried that he will be like his biological father instead and abandon his newborn child?
And yes, for some reason, my mind decided the perpetrator was a male. Could it be a female? Of course it could. But the potential stories take a darker turn in that light, and I like to think happy thoughts even when musing on the theoretically awful life of anonymous.
I think my brain went so crazy over this because I’ve recently begun working on a new story. I just hit 12,000 words on it yesterday, and I have a feeling that things are going to get very, very dark. Concept is a bit too complicated to really explain here, but the short short version: Abandoned girl joins a cult of people who can join minds with people suffering horrible life circumstances in order to ease their pain. So yeah, cheery stuff as you can imagine. Also, the cult members rarely join minds with people outside of their gender, and I have a female protagonist. I’m beginning to think I still have some issues to work through.
Bottom line: I really hope this is super old and not a case of mistaken address.
Other bottom line: When you’re pretty much just talking to yourself all the time, the imagination goes crazy over everything.