The position of my chair in the studio is right by the window that looks out into the main hallway artery of the programming floor of our building. There’s a lot of human traffic that flows once normal business hours commence. It’s not human trafficking, as far as I know - but sometimes there are boxes brought by on a dolly, so maybe there are people inside…I don’t know - but a lot of folks walk by, and as is human nature when one passes by a window, they look in.
I made an unfortunate realization today when a co-worker asked me why I was in a bad mood.
“I’m not in a bad mood,” I replied.
“Then why did you make that face at me through the window when I walked by this morning?” he further inquired.
So, here’s the deal, the outside windows of the studio are directly across from the hallway window, so perfectly aligned that the outside window (and all of its projective glory) completely obscures my ability to see anything through the hallway window once the sun rises. When I look out into the hallway, all I see is the sun bursting through the outside window behind it. I can see general shadowing, so I know someone is passing by or peeking in, but that’s it. Evidently, as I strain to see the individual through the reflection, I make a squinty, kind of sour face.
No wonder no one talks to me after the show.