I’ve had two dreams about selling the house this week. I don’t remember the first one, but that’s okay, because the second is weird enough for both. Honestly, my dreams are like this sometimes.
Here it is, GIF-Illustrated For Your Pleasure.
A guy came to look at the house and brought along an inspector and an appraiser. Just to speed things along, one would imagine. They all looked at the house and declared everything was good to go, and the guy decided to buy it. (Instead of leaving, I was here for all of this. Of course.) But then the inspector said there were a few problems, the largest being that when my parents remodeled a few of the downstairs rooms, they must have cut a few holes too large, and now the house was overflowing.
The house is overflowing.
What does that even mean? It made sense in my dream, because we were all like, damn, it’s overflowing.
The dream then completely derailed and became something that involved Clint Eastwood, a school bus, and a campground full of tiny cabins.
I don’t even know what goes on in my head. Last year I wrote a few posts chronicling my dreams when I was on antibiotics. Those are over-the-top weird, and my regular dreams are just normal weird.
Although this one wasn’t exactly normal-weird, either. Anyway. Must stop eating Raisin Bran before bedtime, apparently.
See you later!