SAM_0547[1][1]I seldom remember my dreams. Sometimes I do, but I forget them as soon as I get out of bed. I’ve also had the exact same three dreams about three times a year for the past fifteen years or so. Last night I actually did remember my dream or dream(s).

Last night was a busy night. I had three dreams in a row that had to do with house hunting. House one was a little 1920’s bungalow that had a driveway that sloped down towards the house sort of like the entrance to an underground parking garage. At the bottom of the ramp there was a door that opened into the basement. I thought it was the coolest house just because of the little basement door. When I opened the door, the basement was full of firewood? Then when I looked in the front door to the house I realized that an old Army buddy lived there? I haven’t seen the guy in almost twenty years. He said hi, but I didn’t go in. That was kind of weird.

The second house looked eerily like my Grandparent’s old house. They haven’t lived in the house in a LONG time (it has been torn down), and both of them are no longer with us. I only remember being inside the back porch where I complained about the little windows in the back door being unsafe? For some reason I couldn’t live there because of the back door windows? In reality I would have loved to live in that house.

House number three wasn’t really a house at all, but a mini camper, and was owned by a pretty woman and her six year old daughter. It was actually one of those APE (aw-peh) campers which is basically a converted three wheeled cart and not big enough to live in. The weirdest thing about this place is how I got there.

I began by driving down a four lane highway with my McDonald’s lunch sitting in my lap. I looked in my mirror and realized that my lunch bag was now sitting on the island that decided the lanes of traffic. As I turned around to go back to retrailer_piaggio_01my lunch there was a huge accident right in front of me. Instead of getting out to see if everyone was ok, I figured now was the time to get out to retrieve mu stranded lunch. All of a sudden I was pulling into a parking lot at the coast where I saw the little camper. The front end was sticking into my space, so naturally I ran into it….backed up and ran into it again then yelled at the owner for sucking at parking. The little camper moved a few spaced down and I felt bad for yelling at the woman, so I walked down and apologized. Trying to make small talk I asked about her camper – found out she was English than “POOF” all of a sudden I was inside getting a tour of her match box sided camper. I looked in the back seat and noticed my father and brother were squeezed in the back seat? That’s weird because my father passed away years ago? I was just thinking how cool the woman was for living in such a small camper when my alarm went off.

I don’t know why some dreams stick with you so vividly and why some don’t. These three dreams seemed happy? It was weird that my dad was with me at the last place? Maybe not remembering my dreams is a good thing, because this one made no sense at all. I guess weird and happy is always better than weird and freaky.

 

 

 

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