For several years back when I was an undergrad, I had a nice 6th floor corner apartment - big windows, two of the walls were essentially all windows. (But I didn’t appreciate that at the time, I was just unhappy that I could see the kitchen from my bed; it was a studio).

The last apartment I lived in (and I hope it is the last I ever live in) had two windows for five rooms. No window in the tiny galley kitchen. Horrible, brown-and-tan berber carpet, in one place with a huge indelible nail-polish stain from the previous tenant. A cigarette burn mark on the tub (smoking in the bath? ew.). Appliances from 1974 (they were Harvest Gold. Harvest Gold! And the bathroom was done in shades of avocado).

Now I own my own place. It’s got a lot of windows, which means it gets cold in the winter (it’s an old house). And it’s also got ants when I get sloppy about cleaning, but I’d rather have that than the enforced monthly carcinogen-teratogen sprayings they did at my old apartment.

(Damn, I hope this job stays good so I never have to look for another place. I just had flashbacks to apartment/house hunting)

Have Steve H. cater it.