More than a year before the pandemic began, my wife and I removed the blinds and curtains in our apartment. This step was a necessary precursor to old windows being replaced. Once that job was done, however, we never reinstalled the old treatments, and we have yet to purchase new ones. The reasons for this turn of events are many: e.g., we like natural light, our privacy doesn't seem noticeably compromised, we're victims of inertia.
To date, said inertia has a single exception of which I was recently reminded. After the nation set clocks back last November, the south-facing window next to which I work became an unexpected sun magnet. While I suppose I should've anticipated this change, it affected me not at all during my many years commuting to school. Teaching from home at all hours changed my exposure, and neither my efforts to squint nor my laptop's maximum screen brightness proved adequate counters for sun glare.
After several weeks working in nature's spotlight, I eventually slunk over to a home-improvement store in search of window covering. I'd measured the opening with care, but could find no off-the-shelf solution that would fit. Rather than track down an employee to custom cut something, I grabbed the closest standard option. (Inertia strikes again!) My DIY installation proved to be three inches short on either end, perfectly practical for sun protection and perfectly deserving of my wife's subsequent heckling. "At least I've got it nicely centered," I tried, but she remained unimpressed.
With clocks springing back to standard time yesterday, the sun arcing higher in the post-equinox sky, and an imminent return to in-person learning around here, my somewhat shady shade remains an odd memento of a year that's been unlike any other in my career.