Standing In a Darkened Space

Bituminous morning.  Chalky blue coal smell hits you as soon as you walk out side.  Start the car, turn on the heat, keep the headlights off for now so you don’t drive the neighbors wild.  In the kitchen, that’s the end of the grapefruit juice  It’s good juice.  It should be.  At $11.00 a bottle it's the cost of wine.  I’ve been away so long I don’t know what is gouging on importation and what is simply inflation. I’m awful sure I could get a gallon back home for the price I pay for a quart over here.  (It wouldn’t be too hard to check.)

The light is out in the downstairs bathroom.  There is no window in there and as a result it is pitch black when you close the door.  You want to close the door, not only because it is polite, but because the cat is curious.  The cat will push the ajar door open and plough in.  She is young and agile and leaps around grabbing and biting things randomly.  Suffice to say, I don’t want to urinate standing in a darkened space with Ms. Curiosity leaping around. 

                     

There is a seat of course, which is a fairly easy way to reconcile that issue.  But the main problem is that the bathroom is no longer a place of reading.  Holding the torch of the iPhone and shining it on pages while you rest the phone down to flip a page and hold it back up is all a bit too tedious.  As a result I end up bringing the lap top into the facilities and having a read at the device which provides its own light.  Certainly one can read.  But what ends up happening is that I find myself watching clips of Sean Spicer berating reporters or Melissa McCarthy doing Sean Spicer berating reporter. 

What I want to do is read my book.  I’m in the middle of a good book.  But I’m not making any progress with the damn thing.  I bring it up to read before bed and make it a page or two if I’m lucky.  I bring it over when it’s time for my salad.  There a few more pages to accompany my chewing.  I want a longer chunk of time, in a place without distractions. 

We’ve already bought two or three replacement bulbs.  It's an odd shape and it’s an old model.  None of them work.  The landlord is sending someone over to have a look.  I want my reading room back.  

Tuesday, 02/07/17