Mr. Sandman

I used to have fairly normal dreams. They'd be full of recognizable symbols, issues that I dealt with in my waking life and people or places that I was familiar with. The past few nights have been disturbing to the point where I just didn't feel like sleeping in. For example, the night before last, I somehow went from ammonite filled shale outcrops in western Wyoming (which to my knowledge don't exist) to a tropical greenhouse, lined with museum exhibits and containing a lake in the center. At the edge of the lake was a mechanical looking giant beaver. A man was using a mallet to nail the beaver's tail to a board, after which, he slaughtered the animal with swords. At this point I was attacked by a mechanical toy poodle. Despite smashing the body, neck, and limbs of my assailant, the jaws would only stop clamping down on my arm after I had pried them open past 180, such that the closing mechanism tried to close the other way.
Last night, my dream self, after getting shot down by the invisible woman (I've never even seen the Fantastic 4 movie), tried to make cookies. These cookies needed cherry pie filling, chocolate chips, mini m&m's, vegetable oil, crisco, coco powder, coconut . . . The ingredients were mixed in, and dispensed from a condom. Evidently needing more ingredients, I went to an apothecary super-store. Among things observed were dried (but recent) green river formation fish, baboon phoetuses, elephant hide, eyes and giant insects. I was looking for llama steaks, but was disappointed to only find llama sausage and fried llama sticks. Slowly, everything was turning to mummified phoetuses and insects.
Anyone into dream analysis would have a field day with this stuff.