After all the drama, all the apartments and various ads on Craigslist, I’ve decided to stay put.
I kinda like my space even though the shower is temperamental, the smoke alarm goes off when I’m boiling water, and I have to schlep three long blocks to the subway every morning.
I appreciate that I can lounge around in underwear or less, that I can play CDs at a fairly loud volume and not have to deal with whiny vegetarians.
I can finally buckle down and start saving/budgeting like the responsible hobbit I’ve always wanted to be.
What’s not to like?
Confidential to Michael: You’ve got a nice apartment and everything, but I’m just not keen on moving back to Queens. I guess I’m spoiled.