Having lived the prior 30 or so years in a 4-story brownstone in Brooklyn, I confronted the adjustment to living in an apartment in Manhattan.  One of the first things I did after I moved in was to reactivate my subscription to The New York Times, which I’d suspended during the 6 months I spent in a sublet during the renovation.

I’ll never forget the sheer delight I felt at opening the apartment door one of the first mornings when I had the apartment to myself, after the contractor and his crew were gone, to find the newspaper facing me on the doormat.  Gone were the days I’d need to retrieve it from the outside ground floor entry.  When it snowed, I’d freeze.  When it rained, I’d get a wet head.  Now, I was in my apartment, fuzzy slippers and all, and opening the door into a climate-controlled hall.  Bliss.