Today's tale comes with the compliments of social convention.
By that, I mean that it's acceptable standard practice for people to have some form of doorbell at the front entrance to their homes. Not having one naturally would make it harder for anyone visiting to attract the attention of those inside - except for knocking as the most likely alternative, followed closely by shouting, or "hollering" as our 'murican cousins call it.
Let me begin with the note that I'm on holiday - my annual vacation to be exact, and as such I've made it my mission to sleep later than my usual 5:45 workday routine the rest of the year. Things that make this quite difficult for me include various forms of body ache and pain left over from numerous accidents and injuries over the years (yes, I've lived quite an interesting life, haven't I?) - and that... fucking.... doorbell.
Or, rather more accurately, people who exist outside these walls who insist on ringing it. Especially the ones who actually mean to visit our immediate neighbors and can't seem to realize that our doorbell panel - mounted between our entrances - has a different number on it than the house they're visiting. But no, that wasn't today's issue. No, it wasn't.
