A Different Kind of Dream Home
So maybe two decades of life and memories are why, after not living there for eleven years, when I dream about "home" this is the house that appears. It's really bizarre. It's not like I don't dream about other places either. This winter I got snowed in at the Frat House one night, and that night I dreamed about: the Frat House. A couple of weeks ago, before Megan high tailed it out of Kentucky forever, I went to visit and stayed in her condo (or as she so lovingly calls it: shoebox), and that night I dreamed about her condo. But after renting a townhouse for six years, and buying one five years ago, I have never had a dream about "home" that took place anywhere other than 228 Shady Lane. Often (as dreams sometimes do) this house is magically transported to a closer zip code (as I can get there quickly from work, the mall, Commonwealth Stadium, etc) but it still sits atop the wooded hill that holds it in Grayson. Last night I dreamed I had friends over to my house: friends that I have known for less than a year, and whom my parents have never laid eyes on, but it was the house in Grayson they were coming to, and I even told them when they left late at night that they needed to be careful, because my mom was a light sleeper and could easily hear the front door open from her bedroom.
Maybe my house now doesn't really feel like a home... Maybe I'll have to be gone from there for another ten years before I stop dreaming about it... Or maybe it's just another thing about me that makes me weird... Whatever the reason, I guess you can file this under "Interesting Facts about Erin"