icepartment

so i threw out a core of an apple and a banana peel in my apartment a few days ago (read: a week) before i retreated to my house. it is so frigid in my apartment that there is no hint of a sour smell, not even evidence that the nasty fruit was thrown out days ago, nor hours ago. the banana peel is still yellow. our heating system does not work. feeling my fingers at any given moment is a luxury, my toes a long forgotten memory. our oven, which we suspect may be emitting noxious fumes, helps warm our kitchidinilivingroom, but unsurprisingly not over by the window. or the chair. or the table. the couch serves as an interactive ice sculpture that the roommates and i allow guests to rest their weary bones upon. let this post serve as a memory to me of my lovely first apartment back in my college years. let it serve as a reminder of what cheap rent and 'heat included' means. in years to come, let me look back on december 2011 and think, 'wow, am i glad i live here (wherever here is) now.'

on another note, i am moving back to my house this week for the brief month before i ship off to europe and i know i will sorely miss this sad-ass excuse of an apartment and its freezepop-like inhabitants.