. . . I dreamed about moving into a new house. Dan and I gave Mom, Dad, and Mindy a tour, and I couldn't tell what everyone thought of the house. It was huge, and bare, and had hardwood floors, and I remember wondering why everyone wasn't more excited. I know I was excited about the house; it was so big and had a lot of secret rooms (I don't know what that means). While we were touring, we got to the back of the house and I remember being surprised about the fact that the previous owners had left a bunch of cats. I was mortified because I didn't know they were there, and they each had their own pedastal with litterbox, and all the boxes were dirty. And that was when I started to wonder if everyone was right about their lack of excitement.
And then I woke up.
1 comment:
I've given up trying to figure out what dreams mean. If all dreams meant something I would start paying more attention when I'm walking around the woods in my swimsuit, singing a Billy Joel song while trying to finish the sudoku puzzle in the dark with a pen made of sour milk. Until I start dreaming things that more closely resemble real life, I'll just take my chances and drink more wine before I go to bed. Go pinot.
Love, Mindy
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