Words a mere window to my appreciation of windows

There were no windows near the cubicle-type area at which I used to reside here at the newspaper. Feeling somewhat suffocated, I would often make up goofy reasons to venture outside for a minute or two like, “I better recycle this post-it note,” or, “I should take this personal pretend call on my cell phone outside.”

Well, you know what they say—write enough columns about your colon and daughter and eventually you’ll get promoted at the weekly community newspaper you work at, as long as you also do more productive things with your time than write about nonsense. And that is what happened to me. Keep dreaming, kids, and you, too, can be whatever title they gave me.

Not only did I get an office, but the office has a window. The importance of this did not dawn on me when I was setting up the office by tangling myself in computer wires. But now that I’ve been settled in for months, I have developed a great appreciation for this specific window and also windows in general.

The best part about windows, to me, is that you can see out of them. It’s important for your subconscious to have an awareness of the day’s weather, so that the day itself may resonate. For example, say something awesome happens at work, like you win a Pulitzer Prize for your column about windows. You’ll always remember what it was like outside when you got the news because of your window. You’ll be like, “I remember, it was sunny and hot that day …” or “I remember, it was sunny and hot that day …” But if you don’t have a window, it’ll be like every other day, and eventually you’ll forget everything important about your life, and then die alone probably.

My window is also good for natural light. Don’t get me wrong—office track lighting is extremely pleasant, warm, and inviting. But there’s something about the sun’s light that is super special. For instance, in the morning the sunlight in my office is so bright that it’s blinding, and anyone standing near the door cannot even see, so nobody bothers me in the morning.

"The best part about windows, to me, is that you can see out of them. " -- Mike Kenny

I also like to stare out the window like a zombie and clear my mind of coherent thoughts. You may think, in this case, that windows are counterproductive, but apparently you haven’t talked to science. According to some link I just pulled up while writing this, “daydreams have been found to have a productive facet, especially in areas related to creativity and conflict resolution.” That is why, when there is an interoffice conflict, I close my office door, stare out the window, and fall asleep.

Yet another great thing about my window is being able to see all the stuff that happens. And working in downtown Glendale, there is plenty to see! Hey, there’s a guy with no shirt on yelling across the street to nobody. There’s a rather large woman wearing a bikini top jaywalking her stroller across four lanes of traffic. Looks like the tattoo parlor is under new ownership. There is a barefoot man running with his dog to catch the bus. Looks like they are not allowed on the bus. Because of the dog, I guess. That is strange. Since when are pit bulls not allowed on public transportation? I love you, window.

Sometimes I feel bad about having a window when not everyone else at the office has one. So I try to keep it cool by not mentioning it a lot. That type of sensitivity to other people’s feelings is probably part of the reason I have an office window.

That is my office window. And my hand sanitizer. Aren't they glorious?

Note: This column appears in the 3/28 issue of The Glendale Star and the 3/29 issue of the Peoria Times.


Imogen Cole said…
After reading this post, I've thought about the windows in my office, too. Haha! Had fun reading this post though. Should I say, profound? :) Cheers!