My one year in this apartment is over half way now. Soon, if I stop dragging my feet, I will be in a place that has at least 2 bedrooms. I will have a stove that works all of the time, not having to relight the pilot light every time I want to cook. My kitchen might even possess a dish washer, and my cabinets enough dishes to fill it.
I will not have a strange infestation of bugs (that may have been coming from the leftover beer bottles in the recycles). I noticed a swarm of them on my ceiling last night, found them all dead this morning on the windowsill. There will be two large closets for the boyfriend and I to each have plenty of space. My studio will not be placed in the dining room, it will be behind a door and possess 4 walls. The dog bed will not be squished into a corner next to the bookcase, poor guy is sleeping on it right now watching me type this. Perhaps he will even have a small backyard to run circles in, a patio for me to watch from? I could read on the patio and do yoga all morning.
For now, an apartment is where I dwell with my pet and my lover.
Just do it. Saw a house for rent. The house our insurance agent used to live in. It's small enough but oh so quaint.
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