I’ve been dreaming about houses.  

Two months ago, I dreamt that we were buying my supervisor’s house.  There were all sorts of problems in the dream because they weren’t leaving and wouldn’t take their stuff so that we could move in.  (The freaky part about that story is that he came into work the next day and announced that his house was on the market.)

Two weeks ago, I dreamt about a house for my sister and her family.  They are looking to move into a house this year.  I saw the entire layout, down to the furnace in the basement.  Built in the 1940’s–single story tudor with a bashed in garage door.

Two nights ago, I dreamt about a new (old) house for our family.  The backyard had a patio painted to look like a pond and every evening all the kids in the neighborhood went out to get free root beer floats.  There was a door to the backyard from the dining room.  We had a tractor. 

I can’t tell if I’m exploring elements of my psyche or if I’m just feeling trapped by my house and all the junk we have piled into it.