Remodeling

Somewhere around 1985 my parents decided to remodel the house. Ah, the sound of drills and saws in the morning...I remember the dust on everything, the "Pink Panther" fiberglass insulation, how the nails caused little dents in the drywall, the aroma of fresh paint, the dirty scruffy carpenters, the smell of Camel cigarettes, and the eventual showing of vacant new rooms to fill with more crap. All this mayhem helped me come to the conclusion that rooms are giant boxes to keep your junk and the people you love in. The reason I bring this up is because last night I dreamt that my parents were once again remodeling the house. This happens to be a reoccurring dream of mine and it usually involves more bathrooms and secret rooms that already existed, but I didn't know about them. I often find myself in these dreams stunned that a door I chose never to open in my youth actually led to another bathroom! Wuhaaaaat? This usually results in me being pissed at myself because in real life, as a child, I ALWAYS fantasized about having two huge rooms past my closet doors. One room was a luxurious bathroom that no one else could use and the other was a room full of colorful scented pillows that I had to take a swirly slide to get to.

The dream last night was filled with rushed conversations with my mom, dad, brother and sister about all the reconstruction of the house. After decades of me hounding them to turn their 1/2 bath into a full bath, they finally conceded in a big way. In fact, the bathroom was so gigantic that during the renovation hippy artisans were selling their wares in my parent's new camode. My sister and I perused their carved boxes, hemp T-shirts, beaded belts, necklaces and scented lotions with longing and both wondered if we would get discounts because they were working out of our parent's house.

My brother was still living at the house and they had expanded his room into what looked like a miny apartment. He had a livingroom that was fenced in and his very own bathroom with a bathtub fitted with jets. Man, was I jealous! He thanked them by keeping it a pigsty and my mom cheerily cleaned up his mess. What the...?!

I got rather annoyed with all this decadence that I didn't get to reap the benefits from. My arms were crossed and I gritted my teeth to fight back the complaints that were sure to come like "Why didn't you do this when I still LIVED here? I don't even have my own bathroom at my apartment that I pay rent for! Grrrrrr."

A spoiled brat indeed, but come on... You must have felt something similar to this in your life. You know that feeling that someone else is getting what you want? Envy is an ugly feeling. Envy should be remodelled into something else: something like a bathroom with a bathtub with jets.