Last weekend my sister had 10 people in her house. There was more than enough room for everyone. I marveled. It would’ve been fun to have my family in New York for Thanksgiving. We could go to the parade, check out the window displays on Fifth Avenue and grab dinner at the Seinfeld dinner, a short walk from my apartment. Problem is my 200-square-foot apartment is hardly big enough for all 10 of us. It was squishy when my niece and nephew visited. And they’re small.
But my place is big enough for my needs. Sometimes I wish I had a little more room for Gatito to run and play. But, hey, it’s an apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I’m a block from Central Park. I can be at a Broadway show, Chelsea or the West Village in 20 minutes. Still, sometimes I want to fast forward to the time in my life when I don’t sleep next to my refrigerator and have a separate place to put his litterbox (it’s in the bathroom). But for now it works. Here’s how I make it work:
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.