Saying "Yes" to a 240 Ft² Apartment

• 3 min read

It has been three weeks since moving into my new apartment. It is a small 12ft by 20ft bachelor located in the neighbourhood of James Bay Victoria. The main living space takes up half of the small rectangle, leaving in the other half, a kitchen nook and small bathroom. Living in a small space has changed me for the better and this is how it came about.

While looking for a new place in March of this year (2013), this was the first one I saw. The landlord made a point of telling me on the phone how small it was and that most previous lookers were immediately put off after the first impression. I however, kept an open mind and committed to the viewing. I arrived at the building after a long and rainy walk, and was relieved to be greeted by a friendly landlord. After having bad landlords in the past, this first impression put me at ease. I wasn’t here to chat though. I got back to business and started making observations.

Everything was small: the building, the driveway, the narrow staircase leading up to the third floor. I carried on. Arriving at the apartment, the landlord unlocked the door and let me in. Walking inside, I was astonished. I could see the whole place at once. It was small — very small. After a moment of awe, I forced myself back into a clear mindset. I felt strangely comfortable all of a sudden. Then, I started seeing things I liked: a window, the width of the wall, that looked out onto the quiet streets of James Bay, a kitchen that had been renovated less than two years ago, and a living space that made me feel right at home. I couldn’t describe what I was feeling until later that day. I was excited.

After talking to the landlord and picking up an application form, I continued on. I had three more viewings that day but none of them impressed me. Then, the stress came. Apartments go quickly in this city so I had to make a decision. I knew I had liked the first one the best but I kept wondering if it was too small. Would I fit? Would it be claustrophobic? What if I hated it? I couldn’t answer these questions unless I committed. I told myself that I would sleep on the decision and call the landlord back in the morning.

Then, the morning came. I woke up unassisted — much earlier than on my usual schedule. I felt great. I picked up my phone and called the landlord to ask if the place was still available. After a relieving “yes” I told him that I would like to take it. After grabbing my cheque book I headed out the door.

Walking into the apartment for the second time felt different. The lustre was gone. My excitement was also gone and was replaced with feelings of nervousness and doubt. I pushed through these feelings, trusting my initial decision. After what felt like hours of signing papers, it was over. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders and my feelings changed. I walked out of the building and headed home.

As I walked, strong feelings of happiness swept over me. There was not another moment in my memory that I had been happier. I knew I made the right decision.

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