mishaday | More exploits in the Dreaming

Last night's dream was rather vivid, and more than memorable.

Mom, Dad and Dru arrived outside this large building in a moving van. Apparently, I was returning to school, and this was the dorm to which I had been assigned. It was sort of odd, and since the elevators were out of order (or really, really slow, like the ones at work,) I kept taking the stairs up and down to the eighth floor.

At every floor, the winding staircase went through a bathroom, and then exited out onto the landing that led to the suites. Dru wandered off at one point to talk about coats and capes with Hugh Fitzcairn from Highlander. (I think it was the recent rash of Regency romances I've been reading.)

The my room/suite/hole in the wall was on the top floor, and furnished in the manner a warehouse is furnished: odd sets, randomly crammed into every nook possible. We cleared out the three dining sets and a couple of long tables, and I finally suggested a few screens to partition the space, and maybe a trip to Ikea to get myself a loft bed, and fit the desk underneath.

Only I couldn't remember if there was an Ikea in the new town.

Then Lori arrived with the cats. Calvin and Hobbes started exploring immediately, and Callie zoomed out onto the magically appearing terrace. Laurier was still down in the truck, as Lori hadn't been able to coax him out from behind the toilet. The terrace was very nice - easily as big as the room (which wasn't a slouch, either, but a 20x30 studio isn't something I'd squeeze into anymore) and filled with pots and plants and other things. It was divided from the other top-floor rooms by only a two-foot partition, and so I went wandering, wondering if the other tenants had arrived yet, and if I'd be able to do this once they had.

The terrace was turning into a grass sward and the building next door when I woke up to Calvin's pleas to be let outside.