The problem is not with the vivid dreams or with Orion or The Spouse making unusual sounds in their sleep. The problem is with getting back to sleep after the images or noises fade. Granted that it's disconcerting to feel that your subconscious is directed by Terry Gilliam, who created the cartoons that did their level best to give coherent transitions to "Monty Python's Flying Circus" and unpleasant to be dragged by the arms into consciousness in the wee-est hours of the night. However, it's the vortex of thoughts that add fuel to the fire.
Take this morning, please. After a dream about an argument with a natural pet care expert, I snapped awake, and hoped that it was closer to 5:30. Nope. Only 2:30. Ok, go to the john, try to go back to sleep. Did I turn my cell phone off? Oh, yeah, I'd never turned it on. I likely need a new battery; it's been showing signs that it may be dying. The song about the internet being made of cats that I saw on YouTube, oh great, that's starting. Ok, try an affirmation. No. Try a visualization. No, not the one with Patrick Stewart and the strawberries. Breathe, and try the white light coming up through the feet and out through the crown of my head, cleansing healing and balancing while oh, great, the theme from "Star Trek: The Next Generation" started playing in my head. Crap. What if I turn over? Ouch; my back is too stiff from the dive I took on the ice last week. Other way. Good, both puppy and hubby are sleeping through this. Puppy. Orion's heart murmur's worse, but for now he's ok and he's doing well with the new supplements.
I finally got back to sleep just before Orion came in to ask for breakfast at 6.