I suppose that most Americans have a dream-house that they fantasize about, sometimes. I’m no different; I daydream about my perfect home every once in awhile, too. For me, it’s an exercise in compartmentalization, of confining my various interests to their own separate rooms.
For example, I would definitely want a library. I like the idea of a room dedicated solely to books, and the comfortable reading thereof. Some people like having bookshelves out in the living and visiting areas, because they want to make a statement of their own erudition. I, on the other hand, kind of don’t want casual visitors to know what kind of books I’m reading. Not that I’d leave the truly embarrassing stuff sitting out — that’s what the Nook in the fire safe is for.
I’d also want a large, soundproofed basement for all my musical gear (that I imagine I’d have if I were rich enough for a dream house). I mean, I would want my house to be within a reasonable distance to shopping and stuff, so I’d probably have neighbors of some sort, and I don’t want to force them to listen to the amazing tunes I’d working on… or the endless, endless guitar noodling.
Finally, I’d need a garage for my modest automobile. Also, another one for my dragon.
Well, I did say dream home.