The Blue House

The place I lived in was really quaint: It was this tiny, two-room house that served as a one-man efficiency pad. The only thing that sucked was the bathroom was merely a curtained-off corner of the kitchen, but at two hundred bucks a month with no roommates or noisy neighbors (my "house" was in the backyard of a nice, quiet family's place -- I think it used to be their garage-barn), I felt I'd done pretty well by the college slumlords. I had a futon in the main room that was supposed to be a couch by day, but I never felt like folding it up, so it was just this runkled bed all the time. It was kinda cramped, but I had all my possessions in their little niches, and I loved it.

Am I the Matter?