Sometimes I dream of my future home. It doesn’t have to be big. I don’t need a yard or oversized master bedroom with a tub I only notice when it’s not working properly. I’m not even sure if it’s an apartment in the West Village or a bungalow in Seattle or St. Paul. Or somewhere I’ve never even been.
But this home comes with its own washer and dryer. It has a bedroom big enough that the bed isn’t pushed up in a corner, and even has room for a dresser. It might have a tree out the window. It’s not the kind of bedroom where you watch football games or action movies on a flat screen. No, this is a cozy bedroom designed for cuddling.
The kitchen has a full-size oven and my pesto-green soup pot sits on the stove. Maybe it has open shelves instead of cupboards, but my dishes match. The kitchen contains more than seven food items and a trash can full of take-out containers. This is where meals are made, where friends are always welcome.
There are no roommates in this home, but a cat wanders around, curling up on all occupants’ laps equally. I don’t need huge walk-in closets, but this home does have space to tuck away extra towels, sheets, suitcases and off-season clothing. A box of Christmas decorations has a place in my home.
The colors are cheerful, but not like someone sprinkled confetti around. It’s neither overdecorated nor sparse. It’s just right. A knitted blanked is draped over the back of the sofa, ready to be pulled over a quiet reader. It’s cozy and comfortable, the kind of place you can be sick without feeling like you’re messing the place up. Maybe there’s even a fireplace.
Until I move into this dream home, I make my home in Hell’s Kitchen, a gritty bar-scene on Manhattan’s West Side. And I’ll appreciate it because my small monthly rental payment allows me to sock away money for this dream home I’ll one day inhabit. And I’ll enjoy the witty roommates who keep me company.
But I will keep adding to my “Dream Home” board on Pinterest.