Here’s a bold statement: staring out the window might just be one of the most underrated activities of all time. But here’s where it gets controversial—why bother with curtains if all you want to do is gaze at the world outside? Let me explain. I’ve always been a firm believer in the mental benefits of window-watching. If it weren’t for the fear of being seen, I’d spend entire days lost in the view. And right now, my attention is fixed on the massive puddle outside our house—a puddle that’s been there for three straight months, no matter the weather. It’s more like a moat, really, and I’m convinced it’s fed by some hidden underground source. And this is the part most people miss—today, something extraordinary happened. A man in a hi-vis vest started placing cones around it, and my wife, who had snuck up behind me, quipped, ‘This is a big day for you, isn’t it?’
‘It’s a big day for all of us,’ I replied, still transfixed. But her real mission soon became clear: she wanted to address the curtains—heavy, torn, and frankly, an eyesore from the outside. ‘We need to do something about these curtains,’ she said, already holding a ladder. My heart sank. I knew my window-gazing days were about to be interrupted. ‘It’s not like you’re doing anything else,’ she added, her tone both playful and relentless. ‘You’re literally staring out the window.’
‘It has cognitive benefits!’ I protested, but it was no use. Soon, I was climbing the ladder, reminiscing about the curtains’ long history—like the time one would constantly fall off the track until I rigged a makeshift fix that somehow still works. After 15 minutes of unhooking, the street crew was gone, and I’d missed whatever excitement had unfolded outside. My wife’s next idea? Swapping the damaged curtains with ones from another room. ‘Are they even the same size?’ I asked skeptically. They weren’t, of course, and the process took over an hour—only to end with her deciding the side door looked better without curtains altogether. ‘Won’t it be cold?’ I asked, but she insisted we’d ‘try it for a couple of weeks.’
As I folded the ladder, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and curiosity. The afternoon stretched ahead, but a trip to the shops was in order—no milk left. On my return, a sign caught my eye: the water company was finally addressing the puddle, starting in a week. A date for the diary, indeed. But here’s the real question: Is window-watching a harmless hobby or a sign of procrastination? And are curtains truly necessary if all you want is an unobstructed view? Let me know your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear if you’re team curtains or team window-gazing!
