I don't have expensive dreams.
At least, I think I don't.
My dreams are beautifully tangible.
Don't get me wrong.
It's not because I don't know how to dream.
And it's not because I'm a lame dreamer.
I actually am really happy and passionate about my dreams.
And actually, I still need a bit of magic to make my dreams come true.
Isn't that what makes your dreams, dreams? Magic. I think so.
My first dream is to live in my own place with my husband.
Not just any place.
I HATE apartments.
I HATE town homes.
I HATE gated communities.
Not that I could ever afford that last one...and not that I would ever want to any way.
I hate money.
I hate that you have to have it.
I hate that I need it.
I don't have any of it. I've been eating week-old cereal for my meals since I got back from New Orleans.
(SIDENOTE: My parents gave me a grocery card last night so I can have something in the cupboards...so no worries about us.)
Actually, when my husband is out of school and is working, I want to have a little piece of land (rented or owned...probably rented. Owning is too...final.) and build a Roulotte.
With our own two hands.
It's perfect. Not too big.
Snug as a Bug.
It's how I was meant to roam the earth.