A series on post-dorm NYC life.
Woah. You’re awake.
It’s 9:13. You’re already going to be cutting it close. You had that 8:30 alarm set, but with your blinds brought down over your one, two-by-four window, the lack of sound you make when you sleep in your shoebox of a studio apartment, and with the fact that you didn’t go to sleep until 4 a.m. because of a hefty porn / Netflix binge, there was no way you were getting up for your over-optimistic alarm.
Do I try to hop in the shower?
At first you say no, but then you realize that if you don’t shower, you’re going to be thinking all day about how you didn’t shower…so you turn on the water.
As the water warms, you walk back over to your makeshift kitchen corner. You think to start to brew a cup of coffee in your Keurig, that way you have incentive to be quick in the shower.
Ughhhhhhhhhhh – This is the first sound you make all day.
As you went to open your plastic drawer, it turns out there were no K-Cups left. You remember simpler times, like freshman year, when you would throw some money your roommates way whenever he bought a box or two of K-Cups, that way you didn’t have to buy them yourself.
But now you’re a sophomore. And you’ve been exposed to the harsh realities of living in New York City.
For starters, you’re alone. You thought this would be a good idea – that extra privacy would come in handy when you really need to focus on doing your work, or when you wanted to have a girl over. But you procrastinate in the exact same ways in your apartment that you did in your dorm. Even if you have a girl over on a Saturday night (which you usually don’t) there’s still 23 hours and 58 minutes where you aren’t getting busy; where you’re alone.
As if you weren’t already isolated enough, nobody else on your apartment floor in your building on 13th and B is a college student. There’s a good amount of old people, one craz—no actually, two crazy dudes, and a girl who will definitely not hold the elevator for you…if there was an elevator! Dude, you’re on the 6th floor of a walk-up. In the summer all the heat rises up and it sure feels like hell.
But you did this to yourself. It wasn’t a money thing – your parents were glad enough to pay for college housing. You wanted this, and when none of your friends wanted in, you decided on getting a studio. You wanted to be able to drink beer in your room without the fear of getting written up, but now you have the fear of pissing off the crazy dude. You wanted to feel more in touch with the city, but now, you basically live at three places: the library, your apartment, and the dollar pizza place halfway between the library and your apartment.
Wow. How cultured you are.
You come out of this existential crisis. You check your phone. Luckily only a minute’s gone by. The water’s running and you remember your whole coffee / shower / lack of K-Cup plan / dilemma. Shamelessly you trash-pick an old K-Cup: you figure you’ll brew a small cup and then just drown it in sugar so it tastes bearable.
The Keurig is starting to hum as you fight a couple piles of clothes back to your closet-shower.
I really need to clean, you think to yourself.
You won’t clean for another two weeks.
Finally, you’re at the shower, ready to start your already-behind day.
You forgot your landlord told you the hot water was out this week because the heaters are being fixed.