Last night I finally had a dream I remember to some extent. I’ve been trying to remember them, but I’ve been having trouble. I don’t know why, probably because I’ve been waking up so tired and so late I haven’t had a chance to sit and remember my dreams.
But in any case, I jotted down a few things to help me remember, so this is what I do recall.
Most of it took place at the dream version of the home I grew up in. This is a different home than the house I actually grew up in. The house I grew up in is was a pretty typical suburban home, a long box style home built into a ¼ hill, so the bottom floor was halfway inside a hill. To get to the house, you went down a winding hilly road. The house was yellow when I left it and the front lawn was mostly a garden.
In my dream, there’s still that winding road, and the house is still in a hill. The first floor is still above the hill, and the house is the old brown color it was when I was really little. But the front yard is different. Instead of a garden, there’s a big porch that extends halfway to the street and the porch is halfway hidden from the street by tall pruned bushes. When I was very small there were bushes against the house, and I think my subconscious has made them into these big fence bushes. The real house has a front porch off the front door, but the dream house has a screen porch off the front deck, and the front deck is about twice as big. I can still tell it’s my old house, but it’s different.
The dream house’s inside is also a lot different, but that’s for another dream.
In any case. I’m at my dream house. It’s freezing cold. It’s winter, but there’s no snow. This isn’t that unusual where I grew up. Everything is dead and brown and the sky is grey and dreary. For some reason I don’t want to go into the house. I’m feeling anxious, but I have to stay at the house.
It’s not my house, because I don’t live there, but I’m in my teenage years so I know I should live there. I have a test in the morning, one that will decide my future, so I have to sleep. It’s very important that I sleep deeply and sleep very well for this test, but I don’t remember what the test is about exactly.
So I ask the people in the house, I think they are my family but I don’t remember, if I can sleep on the front porch. They tell me it’s very cold, but I tell them I’ve been training to sleep in the mountains because I’m a mountain climber, and they tell me it’s ok then. I go to my car. It’s not my current car but my old one, the one I had for most of my life, and I pull out a sleeping bag and a big quilt. I take the bag and the quilt and I lay it out on the porch and I go inside to get my jammies on.
I go past my bedroom, but it’s not my bedroom anymore. It’s now the bedroom of my nextdoor neighbor who I babysat as when I lived at that house, so it’s a toddler’s room. Disturbed, I decide to just sleep in my street clothes.
I lay down to sleep. There’s a tall concrete fence now between me and the front door (suddenly, out of no where, as in the manner of dreams) and I hope it’s enough to keep people from disturbing me while I sleep because of that big test in the morning. I quietly open the screen door to the porch and hear a solicitor at the door.
I don’t want her to talk to me, I have that big test. I quietly slide the door open and quietly slide into the sleeping bag. She keeps ringing the door. Just as I close the door, someone yells from inside, and she hears through the screen door.
I wince. She hears the noise and looks over the concrete wall.
What are you doing sleeping outside when it’s freezing? She asks, clearly alarmed. She starts to argue with me, rudely.
I try to explain to her that I’m at my house that isn’t my house, and I prefer to sleep outside, but she doesn’t understand. I try to explain that I’m training to be a mountain climber, but she doesn’t explain that, either. She just yells at me that my parents are cruel and inhumane for letting me sleep outside in the bitter cold. I tell her I have an important test in the morning and ask her to leave. Eventually, she does.
But now I’m so angry I’m sweating. I know I can’t sleep like that so I get out of my warm sleeping bag and get back up and go back inside. I root around the kitchen and find there’s a hidden cabinet that holds the hot water bottles I used to use when I was a child. I fill them up with hot tap water. I’m wondering in my head how I’m supposed to use my c-pap machine while I’m outside sleeping and decide to plug it in inside and run the hose to the sleeping bag when I start to wake up.
It was a very bizarre dream. I have my feelings as to it’s meaning, of course. I was chilled when I woke up.