Don’t you hate when you walk into a dark­ened room, and you try to hit the light switch in step with your walk­ing momen­tum but miss?

There you are, in black­ness, your hand flap­ping fran­ti­cally against the wall like the pan­icked grop­ings of a stran­gling vic­tim. You try to walk on with dig­nity, but the mute, invis­i­ble fur­ni­ture knows; the silent, star­ing por­traits of you hold their judg­men­tal looks, which seem to say, “You looked a com­plete idiot.”

With mixed feel­ings, you real­ize that those frozen fac­sim­i­les of you are right; you did look a com­plete idiot. And you vow to never look a idiot again.