My Apartment in Brooklyn

 I’ve lived in my apartment for thirteen days. I still haven’t mastered the three-knob combination in my bathtub to halt water flow. And I’m still unsure of how to prepare a meal when your only surfaces are the bottom of the sink and the top of the stove. Still, I am now positive of the most important thing to have in an apartment: sanity. What threatens mine? My refrigerator.

Within minutes of plugging it in, I turned to my mom, who was helping me move, and said, “I hope that ringing sound stops. It’s annoying.” She replied, “You’ll get used to it.”

I’m not talking about the rumblings of a working appliance. This frequency is similar to that of an older television, except this ‘TV’ is the size of a refrigerator and can’t be turned off. If only it was annoying. If only I could get used to it.