The housing crisis has burrowed its way into our nightmares, the NYT writes. Example: "The night after she made the bid, she dreamed she was sitting on the porch of the house eating ice cream with a friend, when they decided they wanted root beer floats. They walked over to a nearby supermarket and, as she was standing at the vending machine, an aggressive and threatening man approached. Another man appeared to save her, but he ended up stabbing her in the arm with a hypodermic needle..." And she lost the bidding! What say you, Freudians? [NYT]
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