[log] you are foolish, you're tired, your sleeplessness makes you a liar
The flat in Carroll Gardens is quite nice - it'll probably be nicer when there's more furniture, and since he has to get an office before he can open it that rightly should be a higher priority in the immediate than it actually seems to be.
(The truth is he really enjoys the hell out of walls that stay exactly where he left them. A more reliable reality, sort of thing.)
He has bookshelves already. He's that kind of guy.
So far, he doesn't hate Brooklyn. It's not anywhere in Seattle, for one thing - a serious point in favor as it stands. Right now, between necessary phone calls (remembering to introduce himself as Dr Hardaway), getting his internet connected and all manner of other minutiae that is twelve times more annoying when everything in one's life is being constructed out of thin air, he's leaning in his (granite! very exciting) kitchen and waiting for the kettle to boil.
He is neither drinking nor smoking. Yet.