What I Had, and Didn’t Have

I moved into that studio apartment with a twin bed, a dresser and a coffee table. I think I still had my bean bag chair from college. No TV, not even a phone at first. There wasn’t much room anyway, so this basically filled the apartment. I read Stephen King books, smoked, and drank coffee.

I did get a phone right away, but no TV until December. Then it was a 12” black and white with rabbit ears. I was ecstatic! Now I could watch Melrose Place; as long as I adjusted the antenna.

I was sad and broke, but at least I could call people and watch fuzzy TV. I had to cut my frozen pizzas in half so they would fit in the oven. The place was mine though…dingy, small, but mine.

I remember my next door neighbor – he was so cute. He knocked on the door to see if I had a vacuum. I had a “sort of” vacuum, it was more like an electric broom. I showed him, and he said he needed it to suck up the dead cockroaches in his apartment! I was quite glad at that moment that I did not keep any food besides coffee and peanut butter in my apartment.

I let him use the “vacuum,” not sure I actually wanted it back, but I did want him to come back. He just left it outside my door one afternoon. Opportunity missed.

The winter settled in, ice formed on the insides of the windows. I could see big icicles hanging from the floors above. It felt warm and cozy though. Coffee, cigarettes, and peanut butter filled me just fine. I was still sad though, I wanted more. I had gone to college; I “should” have more. Others had more, my friends had more. I felt like I just wasn’t as good as others around me. This feeling carried me and affected everything I did; it kept me from having real connections – I had fleeting ones; many that did not involve much talking. I think that allowed me to hide, and not risk people knowing me and realizing what little I had.

I was depressed through most of that time. I did have wonderful times though, in that tiny studio, near the lake, in Boystown. Looking back, I wish I had allowed myself to be there more, instead of trying to make it more.