January 8th, 2010

Dakota F. says eh?

What the heck?

Why do I keep dreaming about living with my parents in an old crappy house and being in the process of moving out with them? (Or worse, moving *into* a crappy place with them.) And why is it that my bedroom in these dreams is usually some form of the room I had at the piece-of-crap house we had out in the country by Wiota, Iowa? I had two different dreams like that last night! One with my old Wiota bedroom, and one with a room I've never had in any house. What's worse, in the second one there were... "critters." My exact words from the dream. Yes, critters in the walls and floors. I couldn't see them, or hear them, but I knew they were there. Oddly, in the dream it didn't bother me; in real life, that knowledge would freak me the fuck out.

Not that the dreams were completely unappreciated. I do like dreaming about my family. Also, both dreams involved secret passageways and hidden rooms. In the second dream, the walk-in closet was awesome and stocked with cool computer stuff. It also had a door in the back that led to a small room with two windows. The only entrance to that small, empty room was the door in the closet. In the dream, I went into that room with Mom and said, "Oh yeah, I hardly ever used this room." Which is weird, because if I'd had a secret room like that for real in any of the houses we lived in, I would've been all over that shit. I'd have been in that room ALL the fucking time if we'd had it for real. In fact, I had a habit as a kid of always trying to find secret doorways inside closets. I remember I often tried to climb up to the top shelf of one closet of mine, convinced that there was a secret door to a secret room up there. And the few houses we had an attic, even if it was one that had nothing but insulation in it, I was always trying to get into it. I only ever managed to get inside a couple; one of them really was a storage attic, and I was the only one who could get in without much of a problem.

As it was, the real closet for my Wiota bedroom was too disgusting to put clothes in, and I used it as basically a dump for anything I didn't want anymore. I didn't even bother cleaning it out when we moved. In fact, I "cleaned" my room before moving out by tossing all the trash in that closet. Fuck, the idjit who owned the place was a bastard, and calling him a prick would be an insult to pricks, so I have no regrets about doing that. That house was disgusting, old, and drafty. You couldn't drink the water, either, because of nitrates in the well; it was barely good for showering in. And every summer, the upstairs (especially my room and Dad's den) became Fly Central, hunndreds of flies living up there. The upstairs was so cold in the winter that I had to sleep downstairs. Even the infamous cockroach house we lived in once was better than that one.

Some of these "moving" dreams also involve that we've already moved into a new house and are either still moving stuff from the old house or are still cleaning the old house (which we did do a few times in reality).

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I also had a dream last night that I was at school (a high school I think) as a girl. I liked that. :-D