I hate pre-alarm dreams

I don't dream often.  I know most people would try to correct me by saying I just don't remember them, but I honestly think I don't get enough REM sleep to even get to dream-mode.  However, I do have the weirdest dreams in that half an hour or so before the alarm goes off in the morning -- that period where you've already woken up once and you know BEEPBEEPBEEP is imminent, but you're still dozing because you're in denial that you have to get up?

This morning, weird dream was weird!  I dreamed I was at work and watching some big presentation, when my left incisor (not the front, but the one beside it) became so loose I could flip it with my tongue (amusingly enough, that's how I used to abuse my loose baby teeth: I'd spin 'em and spin 'em and spin 'em until they popped out -- no yanking for this girl!).  All of a sudden, it fell out and my gums started to bleed.

I went out into the foyer and stood at a table with my tooth in my hand, but it had somehow morphed so large that it filled the palm of my hand.  It was hollowed out (like a cavity, I guess), and I could see this awful centipede-looking thing waving off the end of some other weird looking organism.  *gag*  The centipedey thing was a shiny green (coincidentally enough, the same shade as the Viper we saw on our way home last night) with cherry-red spots up both sides of the black center line.  The thing it was stuck to looked like some kind of weird character out of a video game: short and squat with little pokey arms/horns.   A woman (who works at the jewellery store in the mall -- I didn't see her yesterday, that I know of!) walked by, peering inside my tooth, and went, "Oh no.  My son had that.  It's AWFUL!" before running out the door as I yelled after her asking *what* it was.

I went to the dentist next door (yeah, go figure -- there isn't really a dentist next door and "work" in my dream looked nothing like work IRL does) all covered in blood with my conch shell-sized tooth full o'bugs in my hand.  The receptionist took the tooth out of my hand, looked inside, and screamed.  Centipedey (that's gonna be his new name, I think), went skittering out of the tooth, across the table, onto the floor, and disappeared.  My only concern was whether or not they were going to be able to fix my tooth because I didn't want a hole in my mouth for the rest of my life.

And then the alarm went off.  Centipedey is still giving me the shivers.  *shudder*