Article: 288590 of talk.bizarre
From: gseidman@math13.math.umbc.edu (Anthropohedron)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Claustrophilia
Date: 1 Dec 1996 08:50:30 -0500
Organization: University of Maryland, Baltimore County
Lines: 75
Sender: gseidman@umbc.edu
Message-ID: <57s2f6$jq7@sgi1.math.umbc.edu>
NNTP-Posting-User: gseidman
Summary: FTSD; attempt #1; morning
Keywords: FTSD, morning
X-FTSD: attempt #1; morning

I like small spaces. I am not agoraphobic, not frightened
of large or open spaces, I simply like small spaces. I
recall a time when, rather than sleeping on my bed I would
take my comforter and pillows and sleep in the smallish
space, right over the heat vent, between the foot of my bed
and the wall. This concerned my parents, but eventually I
stopped.

I have always slept in a twin bed. My bed at home, since I
started sleeping in a bed rather than a crib, has always
been a twin. My bed in my dorm room is also a twin, of
course. The bed in my girlfriend's dorm room is a twin. I
find this comfortable, rather than cramped; it is cozy, not
oppressive. My girlfriend, unsurprisingly, has a strong
preference for the double she is used to sleeping in at
home.

My claustrophilia is not limited to sleeping, of course. I
like elevators. I like really small elevators. I am not
interested in riding in a dumbwaiter, mind you, but I was
when I was a child. I remember, back before my church moved
to a new building, riding the dumbwaiter up and down from
the kitchen to the second floor and back. I haven't been
stuck in an elevator since I was five years old, but I
expect that I wouldn't have much trouble with it (unless, of
course, I was under some sort of time pressure).

My room, before my family moved when I was eight, was
small.  The room that was mine until I went to college and
is, at least nominally, still mine is almost as small. I
shared a dorm room with a roommate for three years. It was
a nice room, somewhat larger than the standard. I brought a
halogen lamp, a huge desk chair, and a night table to take
up room. I am comfortable in clutter. I now have a single
room without a roommate, and the floor space fights an
unending (and losing) battle with the junk on my floor. Am
I a pack rat, or do I simply wish to enclose myself in a
smaller space? Even when renting a room for the summer I
chose a single room in a house where leaving my room was
unpleasant (due to the smell and housemates).

My car is a Ford Escort hatch-back, a small car which acts
like a small car and feels like a small car. The back seat
is ill-suited for romance, tolerable for carrying cargo,
barely passable for carrying three adults. The trunk is just
barely large enough to carry the bicycle I used to have, if
one fits it in just right after removing the front wheel. I
am comfortable in my car and, despite its greater power,
don't care to drive my girlfriend's family's Taurus as much.
(Okay, I admit, I do enjoy my mother's SHO, but it's a
luxury sedan; how can I resist?)

I wonder if, perhaps, my claustrophilia runs even deeper. Of
course I want a new computer with more memory and disk
space, yet I have kept the same MacII with 8MB of memory for
nearly four years now. I added a 125MB HD to alleviate some
cramping in my 40MB HD, but I keep the 40. Rather than buy a
really huge HD I keep buying removable media, first a
SyQuest 88, now a Jaz drive. Do I feel a need to confine my
files in smaller cartridges rather than immense,
non-removable hard drives? Must I restrict my programs to a
measly 8MB of memory, to the point where graphical web
browsing is nearly impossible, due to my love of small
spaces?

When I am married, my wife and I will surely share a double
bed or larger. There is no question of sharing a twin at
that point. I wonder if I will take a blanket and pillows
and sleep between the bed and the wall again. I wonder if it
will concern her.

--Anthropohedron (Are
you planning on using
that closet? Could I?)