I live with my partner on the top floor of a building in Queens, New York. Our apartment has great natural light and cool views of the neighborhood. In exchange for that, however, there are five flights of stairs between my doorstep and the outside world. Those five flights aren’t usually a big deal—I’m young and (relatively) in shape. But when I have to take out the trash or carry packages from the mailroom, those stairs are absolute killers.
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