Lofty Aspirations

Last month, I packed up my ramshackle studio apartment in Brooklyn Heights and moved just a few miles east to Bedford-Stuyvesant in pursuit of more space and cheaper rent. Despite having recently been named New York City’s dirtiest neighborhood, my boyfriend and I have had a great time exploring and speculating about the comings and goings of our local Hasidic population.

In truth, the real environmental disaster is occurring inside the apartment. We were lucky enough to land a loft space and I was lucky enough to land a boyfriend who is handy with a nail gun, so we both had visions of an airy, totally customized – and organized! – paradise. But the thing is, you know how difficult it is get haul your ass to the Laundromat after work, or have something for dinner besides handfuls of Corn Chex ? Well, it turns out that hauling sheetrock and two-by-fours around the apartment isn’t anything to look forward to, either. So as it stands, the art studio is for sawdust storage, my office is the miscellaneous hardware depository, and the kitchen doubles as a cardboard box fort/break dancing floor. But that’s loft living for you: work, play, sleep, and tetanus all under one roof.