Simple things I rarely use become complicated

I was having one of my uncoordinated moments. Some small dark stuff that was headed for the wastebasket ended up on the floor, next to the driver seat. It was night. I needed light in order to find and gather the stuff.

If I'd been in the back of the Rolling Steel Tent, I could have grabbed one of my flashlights. But I was sitting up front, about to get out of the van. I knew there were two buttons/dials/knobs on the dash that had something to do with interior lights. One was for adjusting the instrument lights and the other was for the overhead lights. If one knows what one is doing, one can set the overhead lights to never come on (which I had done long ago after consulting the owner's manual), to come on only when the doors are open, or to come on when you fiddle with the correct knob the correct way.

It took an embarrassingly long time to find the proper combination of pushing, pulling, turning and cursing—both the correct and incorrect knobs—to finally get the lights off and, I think, back in never-come-on mode. It might have taken less time if I had cursed first.