Our law office recently moved to a new, state-of-the-art building. The building is “environmentally friendly,” boasting a variety of features which are arguably designed to save energy. As my mother was wont to say, “all very well in theory, but never in practice.” What follows, with sincere apologies to the estate, heirs and assigns of its inspiration, Ogden Nash, is my response to these uh, intriguing vagaries.

The building in which I find myself now practicing my profession purports to be green/

It has a number of amusing features which are different from any I have ever seen.

The first such attribute concerns the electric lights, which are both fluorescent and soft/

However, it must be noted that if there is insufficient activity inside my room, they automatically turn themselves off.

The placement of my desk juxtaposed with the eye which senses motion and abruptly causes the lights to go out/

Prevents it from determining that I am still breathing; thus it is that every fifteen seconds or so, I am compelled to leap about.

Given my predilection for eating chocolate, really, the intermittent plunge into darkness should be designed to please/

Insofar as my necessary repetitive gyrations burn up a generous number of empty calories.

All this is fine except when I am at my desk before dawn brightly through the Venetian blinds comes striping/

When the surrounding ambient light from the window is too scant to illuminate the keyboard and I cannot see what I am typing.

There is another peculiarity which concerns a function about which I should probably be encouraged to remain hush-hush/

This environmental protection agency is the toilet, which has a motion-sensitive flush.

While vigorous motion resolves the dilemma occasioned by the lighting system, the opposite in the bathroom holds true, to my dismay/

Such that even the most minuscule of movements in the midst of my ablutions treats me to an involuntary and unwelcome spray.

Insofar as unintended consequences go, this appliance wins the prize for having been invented by a dunce/

Because although it was unquestionably intended to conserve water, what ultimately happens is that it inevitably operates more than once.

While these rogue modalities make my life a bit more inconvenient/

I have decided that in my judgment of them, I should really be more lenient/

I realize that it is silly to complain, regardless of the humor in my view/

Who can say? Because of these inventions, the planet might yet last another year or two.

Amy F. Goodusky, a former paralegal, rock ‘n’ roll singer and horseback riding instructor, is of counsel at O’Briend, Tanski & Young in Hartford.