I’ve been a little preoccupied lately. Adventures in adulthood are abounding. Tom’s taking his GRE in just a little over a month. Then it’s applications for Psych programs. We’ll most likely end up down South. I have to say, what with the real estate and cost of living down there, I’m extremely optimistic. First Time Homebuyer’s loan, our great credit scores, student loans and such… we’ll probably wind up finding a pretty cute little house to live in. I’m really looking forward to it. Leaving friends and family up here in Washington will be tough, but it’s always been my hope to move back down South one day. My politics won’t exactly fit in so much down there. But I won’t feel nearly as timid about it. At college I learned to keep my lips buttoned because some of my opinions are extremely unpopular. I’m not exactly liberal (although not exactly conservative either), and a great many people I was in class with were self-admitted socialists. Yeah. I kept my mouth shut. Except in my British Parliamentary class. That one was fun.
Anyway, I had a dream about a house last night. Tom and I had purchased it. It was a three-story pinkish-brick home with lots of windows and a green door. It had no porch, but a stoop. It was on an acre of land with trees surrounding it. Inside it had two kitchens, so much storage space, and huge rooms. I’m wondering what the significance of the attention to storage and kitchens was about, since I really don’t think about those things often. I’m way more interested in bedrooms, bathrooms and living areas when I stalk houses online. (We all need a pastime. Don’t judge.) And I do NOT want a house with more than two stories. Just thinking about all the stairs makes me tired.
I believe dreams are significant and mean something. I don’t think they’re mystical. But Carl Jung had some plausible explanations of dreams. If I had to pick a favorite psychiatrist, it would be him. Or Katherine Horney, who basically said the exact opposite of everything Freud said. Pretty much, women don’t have genital-envy, but men do. If it had been modern day and she’d said it to his face, there would have been a snap and an “uh-uh” involved. But I digress… a lot.
I’ve been iffy about the novel. Again. But Tom and I discussed perhaps going back to school for photography and changing careers within the next five years or so. Or exploring other options. But supporting our family comes first. And Tom getting his education, too. He’ll be the main source of income after we pay off the student loans. With any luck, that’ll give me some liberty to look into a career change. He’s so supportive. Just wants me to be happy. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.