For six years the kids' closet doors haven't worked. For six years I've struggled to get them on the track and for six years I've been getting weirdly angry about it. Like adrenaline-rush angry. Throwing-things-around angry.
Today, I took them off. It required a Phillips head screwdriver and less than half an hour of my time. I packed them away in the basement (which obviously needs to be vacuumed).
So now everyone needs to clean their closets, but it's a small price to pay for six years of wasted space and clothes lost in corners I couldn't see and doors that just don't work for us.
Six years I've been letting this bother me when the solution was so simple.
There's a moral there somewhere...