In my dream, I woke up and the house was a disaster– I mean the kind of disaster it hasn’t been in probably fifteen to twenty years– not even when Braelyn and I were making the costume of the decade. It was horrifying. Closets had stuff falling out of them. Furniture was piled with, you guessed it, stuff. Floors NEEDED to be scrubbed. Cabinets– oh we don’t want to talk about cabinets. Everything from the front yard through the house, and into the back yard all the way to the alley was just gross. Not “messy” gross.
I got to cleaning. I mean I really went to town. Worked hard as a dog (since when do dogs work anyway?) and got bits done so it was livable.
Then I got sick.
That was when the dream went from nightmare to amazing. After a week in bed, totally out of it and delirious, I woke up feeling 100% normal. My room was clean. In November! My room is never clean in November or December.
The bathroom was clean– not just picked up with the trash out but CLEAN. Top to bottom, no dust or hairspray anywhere. It was absolutely wonderful.
The living room was clean. As in sparkling clean. Dust gone, Closet cleared out– perfect cleanliness.
Kitchen, boy’s room, girl’s room, front yard, back yard, THE CAR WAS SPOTLESS.
When I woke up, I whimpered and rolled over. My eyes opened. I saw my room.
Why can’t we live in a dream world?