Too Many Zs

Maybe it's because I've been sleeping for most of ten hours every night lately, but I think that possibly after a certain amount of hours the brain must get totally whacked on dopamine or something.

Weirder dreams than usual, even. I think I should figure out how to set my alarm again since I haven't needed to do so for so long now.

Last night (or actually this afternoon probably, since I didn't even go to bed until dawn) a flaky dream that scared the crap out of me. The subconscious goes loco apparently when left for too long to its own devices. It concocts some weird shit, probably really just trying to get your lazy ass out of bed. And it does work.

They are always so real, too, the dreams! But as of late I've found myself regularly being a potential murder victim by an array of methods, makes me uncomfortable. Creepy is what it is. I generally panic at the last minute and wake up, and who then would want to go back again to sleep after that? Sequels usually suck.

But this latest episode, I kind of came out the hero saving not only my own life but a crowd of other potential collateral damage. So hurray for me! Although there were still dead people, and a porn star was involved as the other good guy than myself, of course. I don't know why that.

What happened, there was this flea market (and I do love the flea markets) just off the highway somewhere. People were parked alongside the exit and many walking to peruse and possibly buy whatever others' trash, me being one of the crowd. So after I parked and was afoot, I noticed this guy in a red fleece jacket several feet in front of me within our midst.

Without warning he suddenly pulled out a gun and started snipering down anyone who didn't duck so fast. People were dropping like flies. It was weird. Fortunately, I noticed this one other guy hunkered down behind a box with a Kenmore refrigerator inside. (Product placement in my dreams, are you kidding me?)

But anyway, however someone could lose a major appliance I can't imagine but it did serve to block the gunfire from this maniac, which is all that mattered then and there.

Fast forward to the end, the shootist ultimately ran out of ammo and came up to me and, with me pretending to have just come upon the scene and not knowing what had just happened, caught him off guard and wrestled him to the ground. Held him down even, waiting for an officer to show up with cuffs or something.

It was easy to do actually, and I remember calling him out on not even trying to put up a fight. He said that he was. Superstrong me, I guess, in my dreams!

Okay, so the cop finally showed up, and he was the porn star dude. I'll just leave his name out of this, mostly because I can't stand the guy and the fact that he even made a cameo in my delusion is disturbing. Plus he was simply irritating anyway, because just when I thought I could turn the bad guy over into police custody this porn cop told me to just wait a bit longer, he had to masturbate first but would be back soon.

I woke up after that, suppose I got tired of waiting around. What is up with these dreams? I am going to try sleeping less time in a single stretch, maybe just take a nap later on in the day instead. Perhaps then imaginary people will stop attempting making me dead. It's troubling.