Someone on Facebook commented on my last post about recurring dreams, saying that she'd heard recurring dreams meant unresolved issues.
Interesting.
Well, I dreamed I was moving back to 1911 again this week. This time, it was just me and the cat--who's been dead for 22 years--returning to that apartment with the turquoise refrigerator. The wallpaper in the kitchen and living room was the same, faded only a bit. And the curtains I'd bought back in 1976 were still hanging at the windows, dusty and fragile, but still bright and cheery. Very odd, because I'd stumbled across the avocado-and-cream weave living room drapes in my attic a month or so ago. I'm sure the cream sheers were in the same box.
I'd gotten some disheartening news on Wednesday, dreamed about the apartment that evening. I'm going to start keeping track of those dreams here. Maybe I can trace the source.
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