I just woke up from a nap and had a strange, but familiar dream.
I was in an large, but empty house. It has a warm, but barren feel to it due to the lack of any furniture within it. It was colored in a soft yellow light from the afternoon rays.
The walls were white and has popcorn ceilings, and the floor was cream with the cheap carpet all low income homes had. It was a big house with several rooms, but no one else was living here but me.
It felt like a place that I just moved into, but brought absolutely no belongings with me, so I was living in it's completely barren state. It looked like a new home, and yet, I was engulfed in nostalgia, which made me feel like I've been living here for a while.
I had the feeling I ate ramen in this house when I was hungry. There was a faint smell that reminded me of it, but it left as quickly as I remembered it.
A memory of what appears to be my 'job' flashed before me, where I was tasked to name and label all the lockers of my warehouse. I was to figure out the naming convention and how to best establish them in a way that made most sense, but I struggled because the layout of the building and lockers made it difficult to find a naming structure that accommodated all the locker room's layouts in the building. It was stressful and full of headaches, but apparently I was good at it, so I kept it as my career. A feeling that I share now with my current job.
My leopard gecko, Sunny and her enclosure, is there in one of the rooms, and she apparently has another one living with her? Which is unusual bc they typically should live alone. I was worried I'd forget to feed her food and was stressing about getting the bugs for her, but right as I was about to feed her, I noticed she was living in a bioactive enclosure that gave her the bugs she needed at any time and felt like I stressed over nothing. That enclosure was the most furnished thing within the house.
It's still warm and light within the home, but it's apparently time for bed. I'm in the room where Sunny is and I'm laying down now. I don't remember if I was in an actual bed, but if it was, I imagine it was a new or unused mattress with a stiff blanket. I lay my head to rest and I start dreaming/remembering clips of cartoons from my childhood of shows that used to make me laugh, like spongebob and cow and chicken combined.
When I wake up, the entire scene had actually shifted to the living room and I washed my hands in the world's most narrowest sink kitchen that was weirdly placed right in front of the door, as if it was a hand washing station.
I'm living alone in this house. It's barren and empty, though nostalgic. My parents don't live here with me, but I feel like the quiet, lonely kid I used to be in grade school where I'd live and play by myself while I waited for my parents to come home. I felt melancholic over it and I thought to myself:
"I wish you were here. Maybe then, home would actually feel like home."
I woke up, disoriented, feeling like I was still in an old home with my parents. I look around the room only to remember that I'm in my current apartment.
I replay the dream in my head and I know the person I was referring to was him.
