Eggy is fast-burning nightmare fuel or Please stop pumping crazy-dream gas into my home.

For two days now I've had strange and horrific nightmares, most of which I forget upon waking. It seems to be happening to my mate also, and now I'm going to keep a close eye on the cats when they wake up to see if they share my disorientation and confusion (since it's hard to tell if a cat woke up drenched in chilled sweat).

Yesterday, I thought I'd take a short nap on the couch. An hour and a half later, I wake up scared (for no apparent reason), very groggy and tired, soaked in fear sweat, and the best part? My face hurt like I'd been screaming. I suspect a dinosaur dream. Those bastards are terrifying anyway.

Last night, the parts I can remember are disturbing, though in the light of day they just seem odd. I'm sure I was freaking out in the dream though, because the feeling carried over into waking and lasted about a half hour. It had something to do with my mate and his brother (the good one), and I was supposed to be knitting his brother some Bayerische socks (which is pretty chilling, having narrowly survived my own experience with making a pair for myself), and my mate was trying to help with my second job, and so was watching a live action Rainbow Brite movie (which seemed good, but I was too busy being chased by some unnamed horror to stop and watch). He kept trying to fill me in on what was happening, while remaining completely oblivious to the danger I was trying to elude. I think he ended up reviewing the movie or something, but I just remember running for my life, thinking "I hope we get to keep that so I can watch it if I live" and then my dad rammed a red truck through the wall into the living room and was bent on destruction.

I thankfully can't remember my dreams from the night before, but I do remember knowing I'd had a nightmare. Even this morning, when saying goodbye to my mate, he admitted I'd woken him up before the police arrested and accused him of the murder of someone who'd lived in the (currently nonexistent) sub-basement of his childhood home, in a haunted silent-hill version of the town we grew up in.

If it happens again tonight, I'm considering going to the apartment office and asking them to test the air for carbon monoxide or something.