I live in an apartment that’s about a few feet bigger than the office of the lifestyle section of the paper that I work for.
Anybody who’s seen the office of our lifestyle section will probably think: “Well, that’s not a bad amount of space for a young urban professional out to conquer the world!” If I were the only one living in the apartment I’d be inclined to agree with you.
The problem is I share that space with other people. While it’s no big deal when the rest of the clan is out working (My workday starts in the afternoon), it gets a little tricky when we have to sleep. If I’m the first to arrive home, I get to sleep in the bed and my brothers can squeeze in if they can. If I’m the one that arrives late, I sleep on the floor because I have not been trained to be a contortionist.
Normal people would try their best to not complicate their situation and keep their shared living space as roomy as they can make it. I chose to cope by filling up every available space in our apartment with piles and piles of books.