Libby and the Dance

The lights in our conference rooms are on automated motion sensors. You walk into a dark room and suddenly it is illuminated, just because you are there.

It was cool the first hundred times. You walk in to the darkened break room. The lights turns on to say, “Good morning. Would you like some toast?” It’s very sci-fi.

On the other hand, if you are alone at night, typing at your desk, it decides you have died and would like some peace and quiet and utter darkness. Then you must do the dance. Leap up, spin about, and wave your arms so the light acknowledges you.

So, when Libby and I walked in to a darkened conference room and the light ignored us, she began jumping and spinning and singing.

“La la la la – oh!” She had danced he way over to the corner where there was a man who had been napping, but had just woken up to see her do the Dance of the Light. “I was trying to turn on the lights.”

Guy had evidently found our unoccupied room, manually turned off the lights, and snuggled into the corner. The began to have a nice chat about naps while I doubled over on the other side of the room.