What dreams may come

I slept soundly last night for the first time in weeks -- soundly enough that I was only up once to go to the little girl's room (seriously. so. annoying.) and soundly enough that I dreamt. This may not sound remarkable, but in general I am such a... fitful? sleeper than I rarely dream. I know common thought is that people generally dream between four and six times a night, but I swear to Ceiling Cat that I don't reach REM sleep often/long enough to actually dream. At the very, very least I will concede that *if* I dream, I sure as hell don't remember much. That being said, I seem to have two types of dreams: ones in which things are foggy and I can feel hints of memories floating around the outer edges of my conscious mind, and ones that are so off the wall WEIRD that there's no way I could forget them (anyone remember the shiny green caterpillar?). The second type seem to occur just before I wake up and normally I can trace back bits and pieces to something that happened to me recently.

Last night I dreamt of an ex. Well, of The Ex. You know the one -- the one who invades your thoughts (or dreams!) when you least expect it? It was weird (as per usual). I came out of wherever the hell I was (work?) to find him in his Domino's uniform (with the shirt buttoned to his chin for some weird reason) to find that he had broken into my (current) car (so, this was no false memory of 10 years ago) to leave me a note. I yelled at him for breaking into my baby and demanded to know how he managed to bypass the alarm (I specifically remember holding up the alarm fob while making this demand). He did that whole bashful, looking at the ground, toeing the dirt thing and haltingly spit out that he wanted me back.

Then I woke up because I had to pee, dammit.

On top of it being rare that I sleep deep enough to dream AND that I remembered it, it was also one of those weird dreams in which it (sort of) continued when I got back to sleep. However, this time, my sister was helping me break into his house to see if I could find evidence that he was serious about wanting me back -- a house which, coincidentally, looked identical to the one we lived in when I was in high school (long before I met him), but which was also the same BC-box style as the house he lived in the last time I knew his whereabouts. We thought we were busted when we heard a noise from the patio, so we jumped down the top part of the stairs, peeking over the top step through the kitchen to the patio door. We saw his snatch of an ex (the one he ultimately chose over me, which ended very, very badly) having sex against the door with some guy I went to school with (who is married, just for interest's sake).

And that's all I remember.

I woke up quite disconcerted, as I always am the odd time I dream about The Ex. There was no mention or thought of Chebbar; however, I guess it's better that it appears he wasn't in the picture as opposed to him being in my life and me contemplating The Ex's request. Even more... weird-feeling-in-the-tummy-inducing is the knowledge that I had that dream the night before our (Chebbar and I) second anniversary. Weird. Weird. Weird.

I hate unexplainable dreams.