I love the old apartments we’ve lived in. They have personality. The feel lived in and comfortable. They suite us.
They have… radiators. Yikes. 😉
When we moved into our first apartment on Austin Boulevard. in Oak Park, I was skeptical. It was old, kind of dirty, had loud traffic and frequent sirens outside, and had radiators that I was sure wouldn’t keep me warm. It had a tiny bathroom with an ugly cupboard that promptly got removed, scars all over the pretty wood floor, ugly red cabinets in the kitchen, flimsy shelving in the closets, and of course, let’s not forget the infamous first cockroach incident.
I spent 2 days bleaching every inch of that apartment before we moved in. Scrubbing and scrubbing until I was sure every speck of dirt from the previous tenant was gone for good. And then we moved in. And fell in love. (with the apartment, I mean). 😉 Every distorted piece of flooring was ours, the flimsy wood shelving was our flimsy wood shelving, and, by golly, those were our darn cockroaches!
The first time I heard the radiators come on, I jumped a foot in the air. I was sure the building was going to fall down on top of us, that noxious fumes were seeping out of those hissing metal ridges, and that I would never be able to sleep again.
Pop. Pop. Wuuurrr. Weeeee. Clank. Clank. POP. Eeeee. Fsssss. Clank. shhhh.
It didn’t take long before those noises that put me on edge constantly were lulling me into a comfortable sleep. I began to relax when the radiators turned on. They were warmth, comfort, and home.
We’ve moved since that apartment to another older apartment across town. It’s bigger, cheaper, and no where near as good as our old place. It’s a beautiful apartment, don’t get me wrong, but Jeremy and I talk frequently about how much we miss that old apartment on Austin Boulevard. The thing that comforts me most when I’m really missing that old place is the distant clanks and pops and fizzes from our radiators.
Jessica
From My Bathtub 