June 14th, 2008

Two years ago, June 14th was a Saturday. It was a hot Saturday. By the time the day was over, my shirt and ball cap were stained white with sweat, I smelled awful, and I’d driven to DC three times, and to Baltimore twice. By the time I got back to DC on the last trip, late at night, I stumbled into my small apartment, furniture stacked against one wall, boxes piled high in the closet and the foyer: one cat was out and about, the other was still hiding in his carrier.

The apartment was considerably smaller than the one I left: that one was close to 800 square feet, with two bedrooms, and a dining room separate from the living room. This one was 400 square feet, a fifth floor studio, although thankfully not a walk-up. Positioned along a notch in the building, with a roughly “L” shape, it boasted five distinct areas: a foyer, bathroom, kitchen, closet (64 square feet, no joke, fucking thing is like a sixth the total size of the place), and the living area, which combines dining room, bedroom, library, and living room in one. Also, a view east above the National Zoo. At night, windows cracked, the noises of the exotic birds (and elephants) comes drifting in.

Two years!

I remember two weeks prior to moving, at the O’s/Red Sox game with family, and how excited I was: for one thing, I wouldn’t have to drive from north of Baltimore to Bethesda and back five days a week.

Flash forward two years. Two years!

Bookshelves climb each other on their way to the ceiling. The closet is, well, dangerous. The carpet is more than a little the worse for wear (but that’s to be expected when you’ve got two cats, both fully clawed, and both who throw up from time to time).

The last time I lived in a studio, I stayed there for two years and was so thrilled to move into a larger place. Yet, now that I’ve been here for two years, I do not feel that same urge.

Sure: the place is small. But I know where I can fit more bookshelves. And I kind of like that everything I need is close at hand. And I love the location.

Sure, there are places I’d rather live: Dupont Circle is tops of that list. But I’m happy here. And I’m willing to wager I’ll spend another two years.

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