Dream #1: 5/5/09
Now I'm not sure if I was overly tired or just simply giddy over the fact that Chris went to work today, leaving me solo to sleep in at leisure. Often when i get free reign of the bed, I use every square foot of the mattress to sprawl and twist and sleep till my little heart's content.
So last night, from what I can recall, I dreamt of a house: a very big but affordable place.
The home was somewhere in Los Angeles and was listed for a mere $1695 a month, which by today's standards is inexpensive. And it wasn't just A home. It was more like two separate entities: a carriage house and the main structure. The former was actually larger than my current 1500 sq. ft. apartment if that gives you an inkling as to the scope...so $1695? A steal.
I recall a large entry-way, hardwood floors on the ground level, and a split carpeted stairwell. Once set of stairs led to a loft space and the other led to more rooms; the first room was round with double doors.
This was called the "stuff" room. Brilliant really. A large round room entered into through two over-sized, heavy wood doors. A closet meant to house an actress's wardrobe lined the wall straight ahead while two mirroring vanities sat on opposite sides to the left and right. What stands out the most from the room was the many silver makeup boxes strewn about the floor, the clothes tossed gingerly here and there, and the bottles and makeup across the tops of the vanities. It was like I had landed in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory but for women! Why hadn't I thought of this? Again, brilliant. A giant closet/bathroom JUST for a woman! Men get the den...we can have our own little round room that can be left in any manner we see fit...just close the door. No more placing our lip glosses, eyelash curlers, and facial creams back in their spaces. Nope. If I want to leave it on the sink, I CAN! A giant room JUST for moi!
I ran out of the room in an attempt to locate the "sign me up!" forms in order to rent the house but only found a stack of about ten, already filled out, resting on an antique sideboard. Another young woman in her 20's had pen to paper. Grr.
So maybe the "stuff" room wasn't going to be mine this time around. So I went downstairs to check out more rooms. There was a woman with a clipboard hosting a tour and seemingly auctioning off items such as a bowl here or a book there. I believe everything in the home was negotiable to buy whether you rented the place or not. So odd.
I went into the library and found one of my old co-workers, Jeff, drawing--in pencil--in a first edition book of some sort and I was appalled and took the book from his mitts. How dare he desecrate such a thing!
Another co-worker from a different job offered to go get me beer. "Of course, thank you. That would be lovely." And off he went...but unfortunately he never came back as I later found they had run out of drinks. DRINKS! Free booze offered at an open house...and a "stuff" room. Heaven.
Time passed and people shuffled from the home but I remained behind, eager to check out the "stuff" room again. Doors closed, voices vacated, and I hit beneath the stairs. A woman, presumably the maid at the estate, began to ascend the stairs. I tried my best to wedge myself under the platform so as not to be seen but when I realized that was clearly NOT the case, I went ahead and made my presence known. And actually, it was necessary as apparently I was STUCK between stairs like one of those plump little dog's whose behind won't fit through the doggy door. I was mortified. Not only were my chances of sneaking upstairs and placing my application on the top of the pile dwindling, I was now a stuffed sausage. Arrgh.
Not sure what this means. All I can ascertain is that I'm possibly in need of my own space and clearly a trip to the gym is in order.
Ah...a "stuff" room. We can only aspire.