It’s a big news day here in my apartment: the new owner assumes control (and hasn’t yet communicated anything to tenants, including where to send the January rent); the former inhabitant of my actual apartment introduced herself (and proves charming as well as willing to step up standard apartment wall palette choices); and, um, the dimmer switches on the dining and living room overheads were revealed.
My out of town guest promises she can milk that bit of dimwittedness on my part for years to come. The lighting in those two rooms was atrocious. I’d got as far as buying new bulbs but the step stool(s) in my possession still left me about a foot below being able to change them out. In fairness, MLC is the fourth visitor I’ve had here and two of the others have been here of an evening and railed along with me at the dimness in the public rooms. Nobody else had the eagle eyes needed to spot the itsy bitsy plastic tab huddled up next to the switch itself.
“New light bulbs unnecessary,” MLC announced dryly. Slide. Bright light! “It’s a dimmer….”
Like wow. Kinda like me.
Mainely Portland 