dream home

You know how you’ve got a bad case of remodelitis? When you dream about buying a new, problem-free house.

Last night I had the kind of dream all dreams should aspire to be, a total REM fantasy. In it, Joe and I had bought this crazy old brownstone that we thought was falling apart, only when we got inside, it was gorgeous. I mean, it needed updating, but just decorating, the fun stuff, not insulation removal and sheetrock and plumbing craziness.

Best of all, inside it was an urban loft. The ceilings were soaring, the kitchen was huge, there was even a dining room. And when we went outside, we had no neighbors, but a beachfront view. I even had a dog in this dream. It was my utopia. I literally woke up drooling. And then had to face reality again.


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