Today I employ one of my standard methods for trying to beat mental constipation. Here's this week's horoscope from Free Will Astrology:

A Pisces woman I know has heard harassing voices in her head for years. They've often urged her to commit suicide or commit other heinous acts. Three weeks ago, they mysteriously stopped, and have left her alone ever since. Meanwhile, another Pisces friend recently received a letter from an old lover who unconditionally forgave her for hurting him while they were together. A third acquaintance, also born under the sign of the Fishes, had a lucid dream in which she buried the dress she was wearing during the saddest moment of her life. Subsequently she has felt an exhilarating release from the weight of the past. I see these three events as examples of a theme you too are enjoying: a burst of liberation from a demon that has plagued you for eons.

The part of this that jumped out at me was the part about the woman with the dream.

I was actually thinking about writing an entry about something similar before I read this horoscope. Strange, but true.

For over a decade at least, I've had this recurring dream wherein I visit some place where I used to live. Sometimes it's a house, sometimes it's an apartment, but it's still always the same place in my dream. I don't suppose that it matters where it is or what it is because, in real life, I never lived there.

So in my dreams I'd go to this old abode. A lot of my stuff would still be there, and I'd have an enjoyable time going through all of my forgotten possessions and just exploring the place for a while.

Sometimes I'd imagine moving back into that old place. After all, I'd think, so much of my past was already there. Waiting for me.

Like I said, I've had this theme pop up in my dreams for a long time. I never paid much attention to it except to notice that it was always a pretty good dream.

Last night, I dreamed of the old place again.

This time it was a house. A regular ranch-style house that sat in a subdivision among a bunch of identical ranch-style houses. I did the usual exploring. I remember marveling at the fact that I had three pool tables in the basement. I wandered around the house, touching everything. I dreamed that I took a nap in what had been my bedroom.

This is the point where this dream became different.

This is the point where the moving company arrived, and I helped the movers load all of my stuff into their truck.

Once the movers had left, the real estate agent was there, and she was putting a "For Sale" sign in the yard. She told me that the old place was a little run down, but that she expected it to sell rather quickly.

"A fixer-upper," she called it. "May I ask why you've decided to sell after all this time?" she asked.

"I guess I just realized that I was never really coming back here. Having two houses is nice, but you can only live in one of them," I replied.

I woke up shortly afterwards.