We currently have no lights in our closet. You see, the lightbulb burnt out some time a week or two ago.  Our closets have no windows… so this is a bit of a problem.  I share this nicely sized walkin closet with two sisters: Maria (18) and Bethany (10). Being the smart young ladies that we are, we have explored a variety of options for how to deal with this dilemma:

First, we tried just picking out our clothes and getting dressed in the dark. After an hour of trying to find one of my black shoe liners, however, I decided this method just wasn’t going to work.

Our second option was to carry what we were going to wear out of the pitch black space into the main part of the room to see what it was. This became slightly more difficult when it was early in the morning and the rest of the girls were sleeping: you’d have to carry the clothes out into the hallway, turn on the light, find something that matches, turn off the hallway light, stumble through the dark room back to the coset, and attempt to get dressed in the dark.  Occasionally, I would just relocate to the bathroom (which is only about ten steps away…) but I got tired of the commute. There had to be a better way.

That’s when we realized the obvious solution: just move the lamp from outside the closet into the closet doorway and close the door behind it. Sure, the light was dim, but this option was the best of all the options we’d had… that is, until you realize that the cord isn’t quite long enough… it takes a bit of maneuvering to get the lamp inside the closet and the door closed without unplugging it.  Then, if somebody tries to get into the closet while the lamp is in there, it stretches the cord to a point that make even me a bit nervous.  Sure, that would be a wicked defense, but I think, to save the girls room from being burnt to the ground, this option should be ruled as a bad idea.

At this point in the blog post, you are probably about to call (or text) me on my new phone (which I love, btw) to inform me that I should just face the music and change the bulb.  Yes, I would agree with you (after all, it sound like an easy fix, in theory). Just grab a chair and a screwdriver and, after about a minute of work, voila (that’s French) we’d have light again. You see: you’re missing the point: It’s not about the work (or lack there of), it’s the principle of the thing.  You see, at this point, it’s a game to see which of us can last the longest without replacing the bulb. Sure, I could change the lightbulb… but if I do, I will have lost the stand off… and that’s just not acceptable. After all, I’m the oldest of the three, so I can be the stubbornnist.  Most stubborn. Whatever.

Until the inevitable day on which Maria or Bethany finally cave in, my next move seems obvious: I have decided to begin picking out my clothes based on the texture. Who cares if the colors clash: it’s all about how the material feels together. Today I wore neon pink, bright orange, and moss green… but it was ok, because the pink was a chunky wool sweater, the orange was a nice pair of polyester slacks, and the green was a friendly pair of leather pumps. Those textures are fabulous together A+

I’m sure eventually Maria or Bethany will give in. I just have to wait them out.  It’ll be any day now.

Until then, you can expect to see me dressed to kill in my perfectly coordinating textures.

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