My parents have a tendency to place light switches either exposed and just out of reach, or hidden strangely behind furniture or appliances. My first thought is that it is a result of my father’s insistence that work, no matter how unfulfilling and strenuous, should be the priority of everyone’s life. So, that old fashioned switch, which must be rotated instead of flipped, is placed just out of reach of the edge of the bed. I must, therefore, work to get at it. His unconscious provides these little frustrations for all humans around him. My mother has absorbed the habit over the years of their marriage.
Complete convenience is the contrasting viewpoint. I wasn’t brought up a fucking Catholic, so I don’t have even a residual bias for such bi-chromaticism.
Hall
