But over the last few years, I've had several dreams where I'm living in a house that my parents passed down to me. It's always the same place in my dreams, but it's not a real place that I've ever been to in waking life. In the dream, I am so convinced that this is a house that I grew up in that when I wake up, it'll take me a while to remember the house is fictional. Also, my parents are very much alive and not going to pass down a house to me, thank goodness.
I dreamed about it again last night. It was cluttered with stuff, like back-to-back dressers in the bedroom, as if it had already been furnished and then someone just jammed in the furniture from another house wherever they could fit it. That was an artifact of inheriting the house. It was huge, room after room after room, all of them with too much stuff. Two stories. There was a long balcony facing the backyard along the second floor, and a separate apartment in the house was sublet to other people. We shared the back balcony. The back balcony has an outdoor staircase going down to the backyard. The master bedroom had a partially sunken hot tub/bathtub, with padded sides. I would like to note that this would be a cool thing to have in real life, although not if it was going to leak the way the dream one did. Dream-Lut and I don't sleep in the master bedroom, because it's too crowded with stuff. We have a couple of rooms that are relatively decluttered and we mostly stick to them. In the dream I thought "I should get rid of this stuff we're not using and don't need, we'd have so much more space."
Anyway, they've not been a particularly interesting set of dreams otherwise. I just find it curious that my brain has finally devised its own set for a dream and now it keeps wanting to re-use that set instead of one of the real places I've been to.
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