To sleep, perchance to dream

Recurring dreams bother me. I have one that I can't seem to rid of. I am not bothered by the dream itself, but rather because I would rather spend my sleep time dreaming up new things. I just think it's wasteful.

Last night I had one of the dreams again.

I am in a church. More like a cathedral. It has impossibly tall ceilings, thousands of rows of pews, and an elaborate altar. Lining the walls, are antique stained glass windows. The sun beams through all of them. This is strange because normally the sun can only "beam" from one place. Not the case here. There are some people in there; there isn't a staggering amount, but it's not bare either.

As I walk to the front of the cathedral, the sun disappears. The cathedral is very dark. I feel the floor start to move, and see as the floor is now on a 45 degree angle- the altar being on the up end. Suddenly a with appears. She's your typical fairy tale witch, complete with green skin and flying broomstick. I am instantly aware of my job here.

I must kill her. I find a cache of weapons under a pew. I am (strangely) not confused by the fact that there are knives, guns, and numchucks. I pick up a gun first. It seems obvious. This witch is flying, I would have a tough time catching her on foot.

I shoot and miss six times. There are no extra clips with my other weapons. Next, I pick up the knife. I find it incredibly hard to run after her with the floor being at an angle. So, in order to get to her, I must pull myself up to the front of the cathedral, using the pews as leverage. I take one swing at her, and hit her broom- not her. She cackles (because that what green witches do) and starts to run around with great ease. I throw out the knife.

There is now a diabetic sitting in the pew next to where I am standing. I am instantly aware of how I have to kill her.

I reached into the man's bag and took his insulin-filled syringe.

I start to chase this witch all over the place, and realize that I now have a time limit.

Struggle, run, run, struggle, struggle, run....eventually: Boom, I stick her with it.

I never find out if she dies, turns good, or changes into a chocolate Easter smidgen. I wake up at that point every time.

Utterly wasteful.