A note from Facebook last night:
Went to bed at 9:30 like a sensible person. (Kind of early, but given the last couple of days, that's sensible.) Snapped awake at 1:00 a.m. for no good reason, following a dream in which some sort of mutagenic plague was turning people into mutants, which -- with the irrefutable logic of dreams -- led into a highly improbably sky-diving scene, followed by a bit where I/we were bopping the mutants on the head with boffer weapons to keep them back. Boffer weapons. Big, poofy, things with lots of padding and not much reach. Horrible, horrible tool for self-defense. Who wants to live forever, right? I guess? I dunno. Come to that, I don't remember being particularly scared; maybe I just absurded myself awake. Can that even happen?
And how the hell do I get back to sleep?
Then, this morning:
This morning's dreams were every bit as weird as the ones in the middle of the night, but with a more gothic flavor: big, decaying house, isolated, decadent family; some strange being living down in the family crypt (and quite possibly related to the family somehow), and then a very noisy alarm clock. ::sigh:: I think I might be broken.
Seriously, what the heck is going on in my brain?
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