"When one door closes, another one opens." — Alexander Graham Bell

"If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door." — Milton Berle

"Be an opener of doors." — Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Hodor!" — Hodor

There are so many quotations about doors in American culture that it seems as if the door is intrinsically linked to opportunity, success and personal gain. And the builders of my home must have read and taken those sayings to heart, because my new house has more doors than walls. That is not an exaggeration. And when I say the builder must have read the door quotations, I mean all of them — the phrases, the idioms, the lyrics, from Bob Dylan's knockin' on heaven's door to The Notorious B.I.G.'s kicking in the door. It's the only explanation that makes sense for this fun house I now call home.

I believe that the original owner's desire to reach the highest echelon of success and opportunity led to the door craze that consumed our brick Federal. But the oddest thing to me is that this is not our first experience with buying a house from overzealous door lovers.

In our previous home, we had an extraneous door that drove my husband bonkers. Leading out to the backyard were lovely French doors. Directly next to them, leading to the very same place, was a single door. We guessed that the single swinger was original to the home and that when remodels were made, the previous owners decided to fancy the house up with some French doors. Why they decided to blast a new hole into the back of the house rather than just expand the space being used by the original door, I couldn't say. Wondering why, my imagination soared. I suggested that the single door was access to a magical portal, like the wardrobe in "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe." But despite his love for C.S. Lewis, my husband didn't see magic; he saw an eyesore.

Knowing my husband's history, he is coping quite well living in a home that could have inspired Jim Morrison's band's name. We have nine doors that lead into our home from the outside. Nine! And despite how many times I landed on "mansion" while playing MASH as a kid, I don't even live in a McMansion. (To be fair, the game also often said I would marry Macaulay Culkin, so maybe it is better that all my 10-year-old wishes did not come true.) I've tried counting the doors inside the home, but I always get confused and lose track of the number. It's not my fault; it's as if we are living through Alice's looking glass.

In many ways, this bizarro home is delightful in its kookiness. The previous owner knocked a massive hole in the wall that divides the living room from the laundry and placed an aquarium inside it. Once we actually buy fish, that bit of kooky randomness will be much-appreciated. But when it comes to the doors, well, it just gets confusing. We have doors that lead nowhere. We have multiple doors that lead into the same tiny space. With my master closet, you walk in a door to get to the closet. Then you walk through a second door just to access a third door that brings you back to the closet you were in when you walked through the first door. And no, the closet is not the size of an Olympic pool. In fact, it's barely a walk-in closet. All the room that could have been used for walking space has been monopolized by, you guessed it, doors.

I wonder whether the harnessing of opportunistic energy by implementing surplus entryways was successful for the previous owner. Did he sell the house because after having walked through 30 doors daily, his entrepreneurial endeavors brought about enough cash flow to buy an island? Maybe he knew that by letting one door close only to immediately have to open another door, he'd acquire the perseverance necessary for success. Or maybe he just worked in door sales and, like my 1-year-old, really liked things that swing back and forth.

Either way, I'm going to embrace the crazy and make a point to use all of the doors in my house. Because really, what's the point of having a door, literal or figurative, if you're not going to walk through it?

Katiedid Langrock is author of the book "Stop Farting in the Pyramids," available at http://www.creators.com/books/stop-farting-in-the-pyramids. Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about her and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.