Jest for Fun
I blame this on a number of reasons, one of which is vanity. Frankly, the older I get, the worse I look. Crow’s feet and laugh lines hang out even when I frown, and my eyes are sinking into my face like two stones in quicksand.
While there’s nothing I can do about these developments, I find they are harder to detect when the room’s nice and dark.
Reason number two involves a growing sensitivity to light. While this is typical of blue-eyed people, I seem more prone than most. I wear sunglasses in fog and even squint in a confessional.
Then there’s the matter of my rather relaxed housekeeping. Sure, sunlight looks pretty streaming through windows, but it illuminates dust balls like a searchlight tracking down prison escapees.
It also calls attention to Caramel cat’s nose prints. He creates these works of art on a daily basis in every window he can access. I’m pretty sure he sees this house as his own personal gallery.
And then there’s the privacy aspect. People may read about our shenanigans in this column each week, but that doesn’t mean I want witnesses. Keeping the blinds closed thwarts would-be peeping Toms, too. Not that there’s much to peep at.
Sunlight also causes glare on my computer screen. And since I’m a full-time transcriptionist, that causes me to glare as well.
So I embrace darkness as much as photo developers do.
Given our polar opposite personalities, this is in stark contrast to Dan the man. Moments after rolling out of bed, my better half slides open the curtains and yanks up the shades with a loud FWUPA WUP.
“Must you do that?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Otherwise it feels like a dungeon in here.”
“I rather like that effect,” I say with a sigh.
“Besides,” Dan continues, “I like to see outside because I like to be outside.”
And when, in fact, he heads for the great outdoors, I readjust indoor lighting to suit my taste. Each time he returns, he changes it back, followed by me readjusting and, well, you get the idea.
Knowing him, he’ll bury this vampire in a see-thru coffin.