Then I woke up. At 2 am. A few different things were going on.
First of all, I
Secondly, I'd had a dream about a house, my house it seemed, but not this house or any other house I've ever been in. In the dream, my family was downstairs with some people we used to know (well, in the dream we used to know them, but they were really just made up dream people.) Then a drunk old-ish lady in a bikini came in to pick up her daughter (was I running a daycare?) so I told her they were downstairs. It was basically like I had a whole other house in the basement. There were multiple rooms when you went down there. Except the lady didn't go down there. She went to use the bathroom. And then she opened the bathroom window and fell out! I heard her yelling, but I didn't go out right away, mainly because I was mad at her for being a big stupid-head. Finally, I did go out, and was trying to help her up, but I got distracted by a tiny kitten playing with a firetruck.
Then, when I woke up, and my brain kind of did this weird thing...and I started thinking about the word extraordinary. And how, if you break the word down, it doesn't really sound like a compliment anymore. Extra ordinary implies, to me at least, more ordinary than even the most ordinary or ordinary people. You're so ordinary, you have extra ordinary left-over. You have such an abundance of ordinary, that you will never escape it.
And now that I've written that dream out, the house under a house idea isn't looking so bad. Maybe after I buy a house, I can get a trailer house and dig a huge hole, and put the trailer house underground, with a secret tunnel that connects it to the main house. I'd just have to make sure I re-enforced the roof somehow so it didn't cave in. That would still be much easier than building an underground living area from scratch. Probably.
I don't think I slept enough, but how could I when I've got an underground house to think about?