There are plenty of reasons for me to be happy about the building I live in. I’ve got a bike room, 24 hour access to the laundry room, a garden, and I can receive UPS/FedEx packages when I’m not home. This is New York City, after all. One of the more awesome things about my building that I’ve only recently discovered is the small reading library located in the Super’s office. I’ve picked up books on film criticism, French histories(in french, with colorful drawings), Middlesex(still haven’t read that), Seabiscuit, and this little gem by Stanislaw Lem that I came across this the other day. No one in particular curates our little hidden library. It grows and shrinks according to the whims of my neighbors. Residents drop off books they don’t want or need(hard to believe with sci-fi), and anyone’s free to pick them up as they please. I have yet to donate anything, though I’ve taken quite a bit. More of a borrower than a lender, me.