Now that I am more or less recovered from my unexpectedly debilitating, week-long bout with the common cold, I’m able to focus my energy on the daunting task of moving into a new apartment later this week. The bad news is that, against my better judgment, I’ve spent the past two and a half years loading up my current apartment with a ridiculous overabundance of books, magazines and computer equipment. Packing up all of this stuff is going to be a laborious process of purging items I can’t justify owning and sorting through items I’m not sure why I want to hold on to.
There’s a cliché that posits that the things you own end up owning you; I’m inclined to believe it, especially as I’ve realized that lots of the things that I’ll be packing up and moving this time haven’t been touched since the last time I packed them up and moved them. In a way, I’m functioning as a vessel for junk.
The good news is that I don’t have to pack this stuff in a manner secure enough for international, interstate or even inter-metropolitan shipping — sloppily shoving them into a box will do, as they’ll only be making a very short trip. The new apartment into which my girlfriend and I are moving is, happily, less two blocks away from my present pad, and only about ten blocks away frommy girlfriend’s apartment. For those unfamiliar with Manhattan distances, this is less than a mile from either of us.
Below: My girlfriend’s apartment is marked by the green star, my apartment is marked by the blue star, and our new pad is marked by the red star.
You could accuse us of being myopic real estate consumers, and truthfully we didn’t seriously consider any other part of the city. Partly it’s because I have such a strong affection for the East Village. This is where I’ve lived since I moved to New York City, and while the square footage is overpriced and the place is often a noisy drag, I find it hard to picture myself living anywhere else.
Do It for the Dog
Being a dog-owner played a big part in this decision too; where some people confine themselves to certain geographic regions for the sake of good schools for their children, I’ve more or less committed myself to this area for the sake of a good dog run for Mister President. We’ve visited lots of dog runs throughout lower Manhattan, but I have to say that he plays the best and gets the most exercise at Tompkins Square Park. I never thought my life would be governed by such a factor, but it has.