Moving house in New York is not like moving house in London. For one thing, you acquire most of your furniture from someone elses stoop while walking down a side street on a Sunday afternoon and following a handmade sign. For another, you start accepting that places you would previously have described as small corridors now count as entire apartments.
This is not necessarily new territory for me. I began my media career in London living in my friends airing cupboard, curled up around the boiler with my spare clothes attached to a single coat-hanger suspended from the ceiling. It didnt feel like that much of a hardship at the time, although now Im in my thirties, Ive developed a niche, over-privileged desire for a mattress; to be completely honest, my expectations in a home might actually extend so far as to an entire bed. I am not, however, too good for a studio flat where you can lean over and cook a fried egg on the stove from the bed. When you live in New York, your priorities shift a little.
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