A Farewell to My Old Apartment, or, "I Guess 'Large' Efficiency is a Matter of Semantics"
Let it be known that at approximately 9:30 a.m. on Sunday, June 27, 2004 (an auspicious date for other reasons unrelated to this topic), I moved the very last bit of my belongings out of my old apartment and into my new one.
That old studio apartment - where others had Studio 54, I had Studio 310, I suppose - saw me at some excellent times in my life and some not-so-delightful ones. I have laughed and cried and lounged with friends and had serious discussions all in the space of only a few square feet. That apartment saw me through graduate school and the search for my first job. I watched a LOT of TV in that old apartment.
But this one, which isn't that much bigger in size, feels as large and spacious as the White House. I have a kitchen with a real refrigerator and real freezer, not the latter-sized only enough for a pint of ice cream and a bag of frozen vegetables. I have a real living room, an actual hallway, and a bedroom. There are windows for light (more than one window!!) and even more shelving space than I know what do do with. Hanging space not so much, but at least I have ample room to store my ever-growing amount of books, puzzles, and games.
So goodbye, Apartment #310, in the middle of the hall, and hello Apartment #401, the corner one-bedroom near the elevator with a bedroom door and a view with lots of green. I will miss and cherish my experiences in the former and can only guess at what life holds in the latter.
That old studio apartment - where others had Studio 54, I had Studio 310, I suppose - saw me at some excellent times in my life and some not-so-delightful ones. I have laughed and cried and lounged with friends and had serious discussions all in the space of only a few square feet. That apartment saw me through graduate school and the search for my first job. I watched a LOT of TV in that old apartment.
But this one, which isn't that much bigger in size, feels as large and spacious as the White House. I have a kitchen with a real refrigerator and real freezer, not the latter-sized only enough for a pint of ice cream and a bag of frozen vegetables. I have a real living room, an actual hallway, and a bedroom. There are windows for light (more than one window!!) and even more shelving space than I know what do do with. Hanging space not so much, but at least I have ample room to store my ever-growing amount of books, puzzles, and games.
So goodbye, Apartment #310, in the middle of the hall, and hello Apartment #401, the corner one-bedroom near the elevator with a bedroom door and a view with lots of green. I will miss and cherish my experiences in the former and can only guess at what life holds in the latter.