For the first time in a decade, I have a roommate. We moved into a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment. Now, we have two TVs. Initially, we planned to put her larger TV in the living room and my smaller one in my bedroom.
My bedroom must also have an office space since I work from home. At the same time, I tried to accommodate the placement of the TV. It perched on the bookcase, facing opposite the bed. Then, once we moved the desk into the room, I had to rotate the bed 90 degrees, which meant it no longer faced the TV. Not only that, the TV cord didn’t reach the outlet. Plus, with two TVs, we’d only get one cable box and would have to pay extra for an additional cable box. Or we could pay a one-time fee for a streaming app.
I figured all the TV considerations had just mentally taxed me because it was moving day and I was tired. Yet, upon further reflection and rest, I had the solution: get rid of my TV.
I’ve not had a TV in my bedroom since college. The reason the TV doesn’t comfortably fit in my bedroom now is that it no longer belongs there. It hasn’t belonged there for 3 decades and cannot easily invade that space. This coming from someone who can happily read in the living room on the sofa while the TV is on because now, that’s where that contraption belongs.
This is an external example of “compartmentalization.” Certain activities take place in certain rooms. As I proved to myself within the first 24 hours of my new place, there’s more to it than merely putting a TV into a room and plugging it in. The entire dynamics of a room changes to accommodate a TV. What’s the point of having one in the room if it cannot be viewed comfortably?
My bedroom arrangement maximizes sleeping and, during the waking hours, working and reading. If I want to bask in the presence of a TV, the living room is where that worship takes place.