I do that a lot. Dream. In random places, anywhere goes, even in my bathroom laying on the cold tile floor with my crossed legs kicked in the air.
At this moment I'm propped against the headboard on Mr. Man's side of the bed. I've been sitting here for thirty minutes or so decompressing from a tough day in mommy land and dreaming of going somewhere.
Back to New York City maybe. I know just where I'd stay too. My own little "apartment" in a nondescript, hardly noticeable unless you know its there inn on the Upper West Side. I've stayed there alone before and it is the perfect retreat for me.
Surrounded by people and yet still anonymous. I think I like that best.