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I lived in Providence for about 2 months with only a chair, TV, and bed. Finally, schedules were co-ordinated, a U-Haul was rented, and I got stuff. In one day, I got a sectional couch, table and chairs, desk, and lounge chair with bamboo on it. The table was a bit rickety, but when one is unwilling to spend money– one deals with these things. I dealt with it by making the table into something different

I use my desk as a bedside table, so I turned my table table into a desk, This required that I pull it apart, unscrew the metal bits that hold two side of a table together (to add the leaves, you know), break off the wooden dowels (that hold the leaves in place), and move one leg from the unused half of table to the new “desk” table creating a tripod-style desk. I set it next to my windowsill, and it makes a wonderful, quirky little desk that I never actually use. It’s pretty amazing. Everyone who has seen it has been quite impressed (or pretended to be), most people don’t care one way or the other, and one person said “that’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of, what is wrong with you?” I say– jealous?

I may not use it for desk-type activities, because as much as I’d like to try to be, I just can’t manage to be a desk-type girl  (also, it’s still a bit wobbly). This desk exists to keep my actual table (acquired about one month later) from getting too cluttered, and to hold the two pictures that I can’t quite decide where to hang, but don’t want to set on the floor. Also, I usually set my filer on top of it because I file things frequently (bills, bank statements– I AM super cool), and it’s a lot of hassle to reach down and grab the thing from the bottom shelf of my bookcase.

When I came home today, my desk (half table) was lying on the ground. My filer was on its side and my bank statements were EVERYWHERE. It was alarming, but less alarming because the desk (half table), was completely intact. I had figured a leg popped off or something, signaling the end of my experiment, but it was fine. I propped it back up, and set my filer back on top. Now it’s not only a desk, it’s a source of constant intrigue. Will it fall again?? How far will the bank statements fly that time?? Was their a minor earthquake in Providence that only registered on my desk (half table)?? It’s a testament to my ingenuity and awesomeness that it managed to fall so thoroughly and not break, of course, I’m not going to set my laptop on it.

I moved out to Providence with only what fit in my car.  I found out that it would cost $2000 to rent a truck that I wouldn’t be able to drive, and then Jill and I would have to ride in separate vehicles thereby ruining the whole “roadtrip” aspect of the moving.  My stuff was not nice, it was not worth even $500, as I found out when I tried to sell it.  So I arrived in New England with some clothes, cookware, and my cat.  My landlady was nice enough to lend me a bed and TV for the duration of my tenancy, and she gave me a wingback chair.  I figured that I’d just sort out the rest once I got settled.

 When I arrived, landlady’s boyfriend said that he has a couch and table and chairs that I can have, but he has no truck so I’d have to figure something out. I said “yes” I will rent something, no problem.  Then I never heard anything else about it.

 I called and left a message asking if I could still have the stuff; I don’t want to be too pushy since this is a huge favor, but I want to know if I can still have this stuff or if I need to make other arrangements.  Then I called again, and found out that he may have a friend with a truck and he’s trying to sort that out.  That’s cool.

 Meanwhile, my apartment is 1100 square feet, and all I have is a chair and a trunk that is serving as my desk.  I’ve got stacks of stuff to put on the walls, but I don’t want to pounding holes if I need to move it after I get furniture. Sometimes, I move the chair from the sitting room to the living room and work at the kitchen counter so I don’t have to have my laptop on my lap.  A while ago, when I had one of those irritating hangovers where reading hurt and all I wanted was to watch TV and overeat, I dragged my mattress into the sitting room and laid on that all day, then dragged it back to my bedroom when it was time to sleep.

 Then I ran into landlady’s boyfriend on the stairs and he asked, “Do you still want that stuff?  I have a couch, a table and chairs, and I think, like a lamp, maybe an end table.”

 “Yes, I will take whatever you have.  All I have right now is a bed and a chair.”

“Well you got the TV, right?”

“Yes, I have to TV too.”

“You get your cable set up?”

“I don’t need cable.”

There was a long pause as he digested this bit of information, finally, when it got awkward, I threw in, “I have an antenna.”  I’ve only remembered to actually watch TV twice because this is the first time in 3 years that I’ve gotten any channels. I don’t even know what’s on besides the news and Heroes, but I didn’t tell him that.

“Well, then you’re set.  Maybe we can move the stuff on Friday, I’ll let you know.”

Friday has passed, and I’m still without options as to what to sit on.  But I have the TV–so I’m set.  I just don’t get that.  I can’t sit on the TV, I can’t eat off of it, I can’t keep my clothes in it, it doesn’t provide very much light.  I’m glad I have it, I’ve watched lots of DVDs on it, but I’d trade it for a couch.  I’m not trying to be one of those “I don’t need a TV assholes,” like Vincent from Pulp Fiction, but it is clearly a luxury item.  Isn’t it?

 When I told people that I was selling my TV and reluctant to spend money on a new one (I’ve never paid for a TV and I don’t ever want to), they were horrified. More horrified it seems that when I said I wouldn’t have a bed.  Then I’m made to feel extravagant because I have 2 Ipods.  My best friend LeAnn, just moved into a new apartment and had to leave her bed, but took the TV.  She’s sleeping on the floor, but has a TV and DVD player.

 I don’t get it, but at least I’m set.