The Granada Apartments

Oh, home sweet former home.
Once upon a time, I was a Granada studio apartment resident. Here is a day in my life, at least they way I meant to live it, for your behalf:
When I woke up, I tucked my Murphy bed neatly back into the walk-​in closet, had a home-​cooked stove-​top breakfast in my cute built-​in breakfast nook, and headed outside to greet the day — and the friendly, housing-​challenged folks, who were always good for a word of advice on the weather… or Jesus. You know, when they weren’t trying to make peeing in public an art form.
At the end of a long day at work, the building managers were very sweet; if I had a package, they would sign for it and put a note on my mailbox so I could stop by and pick it up. If my unit needed repairs, by golly, they would try to repair them! The 100 year-​old cabinet drawers didn’t all open, and it took more than 2 months to repair my non-​operational doorbell, but they got it done.
I’d take the stairs up to my seventh-​floor apartment (better for my heart than the elevator), and decide on dinner. If I cooked, it was only on the stove. I needed to be very aware of the über-​sensitive fire alarm that I could not — in a million years — reach and was virtually impossible to turn off.
My freezer was the size of a large book. Fortunately, I was quite the chef, so it wasn’t necessary to buy frozen convenience foods.
If I was feeling responsible, I’d head downstairs to wash some laundry and leave items that were cluttering up my simple life on the free table so other residents could pick them up (and use them to clutter up their simple lives.) The machines were in great shape — I never had problems with washers or dryers. Taking out the trash was a bigger chore; I was a bit intimidated by the garbage disposal and the long list of rules for recycling and throwing away my trash.
When it was time to get ready to end the evening, the ancient, super-​deep tub was prefect for winding down with a luxurious bubblebath — after I replaced the drain stopper with one from Home Depot. The dresser that came with the bathroom was barely sufficient to hold my ridiculous personal version of a Sephora store, but it managed.
Before I could doze off, I unfolded the murphy bed and got the covers out. Then, the soft sweet sounds of the screaming drunk crowd leaving Redwood would lull me into the sweetest, quietest, calmest dreams imaginable.
And I lived mediocre-​ly ever after.
(That is, until I moved far, far away from the Redwood and the stinky house with the even stinkier chickens. The Granada is a nice enough place, but the neighbors are truly terrible.)

I lived at the Grenada for about 2 years before they built that hipster bar across thre street and I had to move. The apartments are small and charming, but unfortunately VERY overpriced 950 for what is basically an expanded studio with no dish washer? No thanks.
I pay less for a huge 2bdrm down the street. with ameneties
Anyway, the management is good and professional, the building is clean and secure, and if you don’t mind getting gouged, it’s a great place to live while you are looking for that killer place on the hill.

These apartments are sweet. They have old style, wood floors, class, and character. The best part is that studios are priced at the mid 600’s, and they also offer one bedrooms. All the apartments offer kitchens with gas ranges, a built in breakfast nook, and the old built in ice box (too cool). But of course there is a regular refrigerator. Oh and did I mention that many units, including mine come with a Murphy’s bed. They also have a sweet court yard that makes the perfect place for a BBQ in the city.