It’s not the 1,824 miles, the 28 + hour drive, the movers, all our stuff, getting the certified houseplants in, the change of address forms, the new time zone, the goodbyes, the new networks, etc.; it’s the thought of those LIGHT SWITCHES AND THEIR PLACEMENT that’s keeping me up.
By the way, this photo-trickery was done in PowerPoint … as if that were related to another previous post.
If you’ve moved around, then you’ll probably agree with me that one of the more disorienting and challenging aspects about being new to a living environment is trying to become accustomed to where the light switches are and which lights they control. Maybe there are customs, suggested practices, heck, maybe there are codes, but for each there is an exception. As a result, the modern placement of light switches is most likely governed by Hermes himself.
The questions about light-switch placement at every doorway, every passageway include:
Is it on this side or that side?
Is on the right or left?
Is it grouped logically or illogically with other lights, exhaust fans, garbage disposals, etc?
Is it, in fact, a real light switch or is it a placebo switch that was installed by a previous occupant who majored in experimental psychology?
Are there more?
As we prepare to move for the 6th time in 23 years, seven if you count our most recent move up from one upper-floor unit to another up even higher in this downtown loft building, we’ve been watching a lot of HGTV. We’ve been downtown lofters, something new for us, for nearly 4 years and have grown accustomed to panoramic views, elevators, and life without either Home Depot or Lowes. This will all change…or maybe it won’t.
You will undoubtedly recall that the other day, I posted Our Place in the Country, a tribute to the contemplative lifestyle and excessive stuff. Well, when Ann texted me yesterday from California and confirmed that we would, in fact, be moving there in a couple of months in connection with a job offer that she accepted, I thought to myself, among other things, “Good Lord, what about all our stuff?!?” Perhaps I’ll make a mini pilgrimage to our secluded stuff shrine in the next few days, reflect on the words of George Carlin, reacquaint myself with our special collection of enshrined stuff, consider its earthly value, and fashion a few next steps if not a complete plan of action. Or maybe we’ll decide simply to walk away, and as my sister suggested, make an anonymous call to the reality TV series, Storage Wars!
portfoliolongo 