Monday, 28 June 2004 | Sidewalk couch

I cleaned the kitchen this evening. I cleaned the kitchen and straightened the living room and hung up my pile of clothes and put my shoes away.

The new cover on my couch looks good, I've decided. I found the couch on a sidewalk in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, about a month ago. I was reluctant to adopt it at first, although now I can't figure out why. It's in great shape and was even free of charge, apart from the $16 cab fare. It made it through the day-long street-wide stoop sale without finding a home, and, in the end, I was actually asked to please take it.

We were standing with it in my kitchen—it turned on its side with its label exposed—when we discovered that its parent was named IKEA. While I was a little disappointed (owning some IKEA is okay, but owning too much is not, and I am nearing the acceptable limit), it made it easy for me to find a couch cover that fit its unusual size.

My living room looks like a different place altogether, now that I've gotten rid of that '70s plaid love seat that came my way during high school. Except for a few household items—such as the inflatable grasshopper on the arm of the couch, the Homies collection on top of the stereo, and the framed German postcard of a child being attacked by roaches—it looks almost as if an adult lives here now.

When my apartment is clean, I notice all of the things I've acquired—that I have a domestic collection including a toaster, a spice rack, a tool box, and an iron (though, admittedly, I've never used the iron). I even have a few unnecessary appliances, such as a foil cutter for wine. I even have a ladle.

I really like my place, and I love living alone, but I feel like I'm still a little too young for such a thing. What am I doing with my own apartment? It's as if my parents are on vacation and I'm playing house. Somehow, though, I'm not so bad at it; I pay my bills and cook myself meals and sometimes I even dust the top of the refrigerator or scrub the side of the stove.

To be fair, though, I also sometimes eat crap for dinner and stay up too late and spontaneously invite people over and neglect the dishes, just as I would if my parents were really on vacation.