My Apartment

is who I am. Or, more accurately, reflects who I’ve been since being born 73 years ago come this Thanksgiving.

The apartment is small, one bedroom – just 800sq. feet. If I include the balcony, which I do. The balcony serves as garden, as well as a place for reading, rest, and contemplation. (Oh, and drinking.)

The apartment is marketed as a “modern luxury apartment”. Because it comes equipped with an energy efficient range and oven, microwave, dishwasher, hot-water heater, and clothes washer and dryer, too. Add to that remote-controlled central heat and air-conditioning, front-door lock, overhead light fixtures and ceiling fan. That’s some pretty luxurious features.

There’s also an elevator! [I live on the fourth-floor (top).] And individual garages (I have one.) In addition, there’s a clubhouse, fitness center, pool and hot tubs. The complex is pet friendly with a dog park and ample open space, with a lot of green grass, trees, walking paths and lookouts.

The views can be spectacular – of the Front Range and Continental Divide of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, and the Eastern Plains. Of course also – sunrises and sunsets.

A sunset over the Colorado Rocky Mountains as seen from my apartment complex
Typical sunset

The Cost/BenefitĀ 

analysis is, in my opinion, favorable. Including CAM (common area maintenance). I get all this for $2.44 a square foot. Moreover, if anything breaks or goes wrong – there’s no charge for the fix. Staff even changes out lightbulbs and batteries! That’s a hell-of-a-deal, if you ask me.

My Apartment and Me

is, however, what this post is really about. Because our living environment interacts with who we are, to become who I am. That interaction facilitates our health, our well-being.

Besides the usual kitchen, bath, and bed (room’s), I have arranged my apartment so that there are areas to accommodate my preferred activities and pleasures. My values, if you will. Or, that which is important to me. That looks like this in my apartment. There is:

The Intimate Cafe and Bar

I had the table top custom made to fit the space for my cafe and bar
Intimate cafe and bar

The Bookstore and Reading Nook

A bookshelf with about 100 of my favorite books, recessed into the cafe
The bookstore?
A small space that I use to read, write, watch, reflect, and rock.
Reading nook



Integrating small spaces to fit who I am. Works for me. But then, I live solo.



The Writing Den

The bedroom is large enough to accommodate two desks, two bookshelves, and two plant stands. AND a bed!
Writing Den

The Movie Theater

Not the largest of screens to view movies and such, but big enough given the space. I can see clearly.
The movie theater

The Apartment

is also an Art Gallery, Fine Woodworking Show Room, and Garden. (If you hadn’t noticed.) In essence – it’s who I am.

Who Are You?

Is maybe not a fair question. My apartment does reflect who I’ve been: A bartender, home builder, cabinetmaker, landscaper, hiker, artist, photographer, gardener, talker, loner, lover of beauty, son, father, husband, friend, reader, writer, thinker, and drinker.

However, it does not predict who I might become – homeless.

In Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed this post. If you did be sure to like and subscribe. Let me know in the comments how you are doing.

Post Script.

I do check-in with my psych-girl once or twice a month. She grounds me. That is – until the money runs out. Cheers.


5 thoughts on “My Apartment

  1. Hey brother, I’ve spent many enjoyable hours in your various “nooks” as described. We kept hoping for a Dodgers-Yankees Series to ramp up our boyhood rivalry, but they just won’t cooperate. I remember our backyard whiffle ball games as we trotted out our team’s best lineups. You could throw a dandy curve ball, and I relied on power fast balls. “Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end…”

  2. Thanks! I was hoping for that (= Dodgers/Yankees WS), too. In Kansas, at your new digs, and maybe Ron M. could make it. But, alas, our teams continue to fall short.
    Ah yes, the backyard whiffle ball games – not a clutch moment goes by in the Fall Frenzy, when some expert doest mention that. Nor ask how the “hero” feels when he comes through.
    It becomes almost unbearable.
    RIP Vin Scully. Haven’t “they” learned anything?
    Yes. Those WERE the days. Cheers. Happy Thanksgiving.

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