dream no. 5,768,542

It's the day of my birthday, and I'm cleaning up the yard of my mom's house. Of course, this is not the house that I grew up in, nor the house she lives in now. But here, it's perfectly clear to me that this is home. The yard is huge, sprawling, with shrubbery acting as a fence. I'm barefoot, zipping about the yard, trimming the shrubs, and brushing the snow off of them and clearing the snow out of the yard so there's space for people to hang out without having to stand in the snow. Wait, yes, I did say I was barefoot. And wearing a tank top. But for some reason I'm warm. Must be all the work. I'm expecting lots of friends over, hoping many people will show up. Despite the fact that this house clearly would be in Colorado, it seems perfectly logical for Boston people to be able to just stop by.

There's someone I've been missing, but who kind of disappeared, and I'm not expecting. [If you know me, this is probably not who you assume it is.] In the back of my mind there's a tiny bit of hope that I'll see him, but I've supressed it; I'm not even thinking about this in the dream. And then he rolls up in a car with a few other people. I drop whatever tools I'm carrying, walking up to him, hesitant at first, but then sort of give in to it and break into a sprint that sort of turns into a leap right into a wrap-myself-around-the-kid hug. There's an overwhelming sense of happiness and fulfillment in the dream, something I haven't necessarily felt in real life lately. I woke up, wanting to hang on to the feeling, sink back into the dream and not have to go to work. Or to just replicate the emotion in real life. Add that to my ever-increasing list of things to do.