My mother-in-law, Martha, was a good woman, I truly believe that. But she had this one little quirk: an insatiable curiosity about things that weren’t her business. A polite person might call it “taking an interest”; I called it good old-fashioned snooping. She’d been staying with us for two weeks, and already I felt like I needed a full-time security guard for my own home.
I work as a graphic designer, mostly from home, but Tuesdays I have to go into the city office for team meetings. It’s a good hour-long commute, which means I’m out of the house for most of the day. Every Tuesday, without fail, I lock the master bedroom door before I leave. It’s not that I keep any deep, dark secrets in there, but I need a space that’s just mine, away from Martha’s eagle eyes and endless commentary.
