Little Room to Move (part 2)

I move into the Canal Street loft at midnight. Two of my roommates are still up. One is a French investment banker, who just happens to be in the middle of baking a banana and chocolate cake, and my other roomate is a gay French man that works for Air France. I say a quick hello and then I walk up the few stairs to my room.

My room is only three feet tall.

It's shocking to say, but even more shocking to actually be in there, or to lay in bed in there, or to get dressed in there, or to even think of bringing a man in there. I push my two suitcases through the little hobbit door as I crawl in behind them on my knees. I switch on the light. It is not a traditional light, but rather Christmas lights that line the top of the room. I unzip my luggage and begain to hang my clothes. I smack my hand on the fire sprinkler pipe that lines my room. "Fuck" I say to myself shaking my hand out in front of me. I stop packing, and I look around. I had tried not to think of the smallness of this room when I first signed the short term lease, but now it's smallness looms largly in front of me. "What did I get myself into" I say quietly to myself.

This time last year, I had a long term boyfriend, a beautiful cat, and a duplex with a green house next to the Blue Note in the West Village. Now, I have a large rent, a small room, and roommates...lots of roommates. Because, it's not just a communal living space- it's also a bed and breakfast. Before I give myself an anxiety attack I leave the room and go up to the roof.

You can see most of Chinatown and parts of Little Italy from the roof. There is a wooden deck, chairs, and after 7pm, a sense of calm, as most shops in Chinatown close at that time. I decide I should give this a chance, after all, I didn't want to move back to Brooklyn (I hated the commute), and I liked vibe of the French household. It was time to get back to taking care of just me again. I had been a caretaker for so long, for my brothers, then my mother, that a boyfriend. To be independent in New York City was frightening, lonely, and a challenge...but I wanted to be optimistic, at for tonight.