My adult bedroom is oriented very much like my teenage bedroom was. The door, bed and window are all in the same positions in relation to one another. Every so often, when I'm in that in-between state where I'm not really awake, but I'm not really asleep, I'll catch myself feeling that I'm back there in my old room in my parents' house. The cars on our little subdivision streets somehow sound like the cars on the country road. I'll consider looking out the window and I expect to see the huge trees that line my parents' driveway. I love this feeling--it makes me feel so secure and all of my adult problems and issues just seem to have melted away. Then I actually open my eyes and realize that I'm no longer 17, that I own my own home, and I'm sleeping in it.
Last night I had another one of these episodes, but the thing that made me open my eyes was the knee of my small child, which was poking me in the small of my back.
Yep, definitely not 17 and living in my parents' house anymore...
Saturday, July 23, 2011
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