I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't have nightmares. In fact, one of my earliest memories is a nightmare that, boy, makes a helluva lot of sense in hindsight. Maybe it's just because I dream so vividly. I almost always remember my dreams, and very often, my mood in the morning is dependent on what kind of dream I actually had. I woke up this morning to our house being infested with these killer bugs the size of Craig's hand and I was the next target. Now, I can appreciate that I'm a Type A personality, and that these are just the product of my stress, but sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who doesn't remember their dreams.
My mother-in-law thinks something is wrong with me. She doesn't think it's right for anyone to dream as vividly as I do, or have as many bad dreams, and thinks I should go to a sleep clinic to find out what exactly is going on. I think she's whacked.
Of course, this also means that my sex dreams are just as vivid. So maybe it's a trade-off. :)
OK, off to go start my day. Alex is waking up. No reason for everyone to have a crappy start to their day, right?