Six of us shared an apartment our senior year of college (way, way back in the day). Student-worthy housing in Madison was decent, but my friend Dana and I shared a rather tiny bedroom. We had a lofted bed, two dressers, jam-packed closets and a tv/vcr (don't laugh) strategically organized to fit our worldly possessions.
I thought it was quite cozy. During one visit, my grandfather astutely pointed out to us that the quarters were tight. He mused that it's like living on a submarine. He never resisted the urge to drop a WWII reference on us.
Whenever my house gets messy and I need to go through the laborious task of sending every little thing we own back in its rightful home, I think about the submarine thing. And I laugh. It's true - even now.
We live in a two-bedroom high-rise condo in Chicago. Such accommodations are not known for supreme spaciousness, but that's the trade off of city living. We can fall out the front door to the zoo, train, ballpark, restaurants and can run downstairs for milk, sugar, wine, crack ... whatever we need without having to get in the car. O.K. Not crack. Glad I have your attention. Plus, we have a kick-ass, corner view of the city and lake, a parking space, pool and 24-hour doorman.
I love my birdhouse in the sky.
We had space issues long before Leighton came along. I lived here alone for years before Ryan moved in and managed to jam every square inch of the abode with my prized items - mostly organized into bins or boxes by project. I looooove projects.
When Ryan did move in, I gave him a closet to start and then a dresser. Upon further reflection, I realize that's pretty much all he has, still. He even keeps his golf clubs in the car. Actually, they're in his brother's car right now, but who's keeping track anyway?
I plan to share some of my space-saving tips and tricks in Part II of this post tomorrow. If you too are space challenged, please post your space-saving tips to comments and share your fuss with us!
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