In April of 2011 I finally made the decision to “move on up”, to a larger apartment that is. It was a very hard decision to make, but a small two-bedroom house became available; I knew the landlord and felt comfortable making the leap. I had moved into my very first apartment, at the age of 37, in April of 2005. I have to admit, it was a bit scary at first, but it took no time at all for me to settle in and start loving every minute of it. The apartment was located on the top floor of an old building next door to the Depuy Canal House, a restaurant/B&B/gourmet food shop where I landed my first job after moving to New York. I had a nice view of the apartment from my office window and I remember gazing up at the windows of that apartment many times; it was like it beckoned to me, long before I even knew I needed it. As fate had it, which it usually does if you just let it work itself out, the apartment became vacant right before I found out that I was going to need a new place to live. My boss at the time owned the building with the beckoning apartment and he graciously made me an offer I couldn't refuse - or maybe I made him an offer he couldn't refuse - either way, I got a place to live and he got to keep the best office manager he had ever had. At the time the apartment was perfect for me, a one-bedroom with separate living room and eat-in kitchen, and as a bonus all I had to do to get to work in the mornings was walk out my front door to the building across the driveway. But after four years of being a full-time collectible-doll-eBay-broker, my precious little apartment no longer felt spacious, neat or clean - seriously, where does dust come from? I eventually turned my bedroom into an office and turned my living room into a bedroom/living room. I got rid of most of my living room furniture to make room to do this, but once it was complete, I was happy with the arrangement, for a while. You’re probably wondering why I just didn't move to a larger apartment sooner; well, I just couldn't bring myself to leave. I loved my apartment, I loved its location, I loved the fact that I could walk to 5 different restaurants, and the Post Office was right next door - I mean come on, I was their #1 customer! However the time finally came, I was tired of the clutter, tired of not having a living room, tired of not having a bedroom, and tired of not being able to properly entertain friends… "Oh hello, come on in and have a seat in the ONE chair I still own". It was hard to walk away on that very last day, shutting the door knowing I would never re-enter; but it was time… time to regain a bedroom, a living room, way past time for separated office space, and most importantly, the joy of having your outgoing mail picked up and not having to drag 30-40 packages to the Post Office every Monday.
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