I hate nightmares.

In a way, I can kind of appreciate the creativity in some of them- sometimes, like any dream, things emerge from them that I am certain will stay with me awhile and be used in some fashion. (I'm sure the grim rider will- I can't even shut my eyes right now. H. will, however, sardonically appreciate that after I described a fleeting glimpse of it in the dream, someone asked me, "What, like Death's horse". "No," I replied, "No, this was entirely different." More like an ill omen than Death...)

But mostly, I hate them.

I don't get them often, but when I do, sleep quickly becomes out of the question.

So here I sit writing, shuddering, at a quarter til five, hoping to make it til morning.