Escape from Suburbia

We made it out! We’re free! I can hear traffic outside my window; there are non-chain stores and restaurants nearby; there was a crazy lady behind me in line at Target yesterday. Even more importantly, I can now walk from room to room—a studio apartment would be no problem if NYC was right outside the door, but a studio apartment in a suburban apartment complex was, to put it mildly, not really tenable. We now have a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom, and an office alcove—as well as a large storage room and a walk in closet. It’s a huge apartment, and beautiful—lots of light, beautiful details, great wood floors. Pure charm.

The bathroom and kitchen also have “charm,” in the form of the following: only one electrical outlet in the kitchen; no garbage disposal; and separate hot-and-cold faucets in an ancient sink in the bathroom. The character of the apartment makes up for these deficits in modernization, of course, and we’ve made the rooms pleasant and fully functional. But we will both be very happy on the day when we have our own home and can install top-of-the-line, luxurious kitchen and bathroom fixtures.

As moves go, this one wasn’t bad—we didn’t have too much stuff, and one Uhaul trip was sufficient. The most arduous part of the move was making the trips to Target and Ikea to round up some furniture; we’re now proud owners of a couch, a desk, a kitchen island, a side table, a TV stand, a few lamps, and sundry other things. We even bought a bed—a real bed, from a real furniture store—that was delivered on Sunday. Our nest-building has truly begun.

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