Life in 250 Square Feet

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

I have too many plates. Eight large plates, and eight small plates, to be exact. Cupboard space is at a premium and nothing, I repeat, nothing, fits.

I found myself contemplating the necessity of a toaster: I don’t really need a toaster, right? Toast is just twice-cooked bread and I could absolutely live without it.

The oven is too small to fit a normal sized baking sheet. It’s approximately the size of an easy bake oven, with none of the fun accouterments. I donated most of my kitchen supplies to a local Goodwill: a set of dishes leftover from my French roommate, a deep fryer from my shopaholic roommate, pots and pans that will not fit into my new, Barbie’s magic dreamhouse-sized kitchen, pub glasses from who-knows-where, mugs I never use, flimsy, worn out plasticware, a counter-top egg cooker, and all the mismatched spoons. Life here is too small for mismatched spoons.

I also gave away my bed and my bedframe to a kind lady with a very dirty minivan. She was extremely thankful for the bed, and I was thankful that she was taking it off my hands. I swapped out my soft, plush, queen-sized bed for an Ikea couch-bed that is only slightly more comfortable than sleeping on concrete. I bought a mattress pad for it, because I’m a bitch who needs her beauty sleep. The couch-bed is…