My apartment is small, I mean really small. Here’s a picture for your amusement:
I’m not sure of the exact dimensions, but I believe them to be no bigger than ten foot by ten foot. It is comprised of just one room that I share with my roommate. The bathroom is down the hall and we share it with an angry Asian man, a theatrical couple who have really loud sex, and a quiet woman who I’ve seen one time in the eight months I’ve lived here.
It’s extremely cramped and we had no other option but to get loft beds, because we could almost step from one bed to the other if they were on the ground. Our living room is a lawn chair that faces a TV, which sits on top of the radiator. This is what happens when you want to live in Manhattan and don’t have any money.
I’ve been living here since January and sadly my time here is coming to an end. Why “sadly” if the apartment is ridiculously cramped and a challenge to live in? Well, because I learned a lot living here. I learned that a person’s happiness is not reliant on the things she owns or how much space she has. It’s not even reliant on how much privacy she has, and that’s coming from perhaps the most introverted person there is. It made me think out of the box (the literal box of my apartment) when it came to making the most out of the space I had and it led to me creating some very innovative and questionable microwavable meals. It has humbled me to say the least.
In less than a week, I’m moving back to Rochester. This apartment will be just a memory of where I started and the crazy things I did in my early twenties. In Rochester, I will find a bigger place for around the same amount of money and I will value it a lot more because I lived here. I’m not going to fill my new apartment with useless things, because I know now that most things are in fact useless. Instead, I’ll use my extra space to maybe have my bed on the ground or maybe have a table to prepare and eat food on, instead of preparing food on top of the microwave and eating on the floor.