42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

I mostly like my dreams, even the ones that scare me. There are just a handful of nightmares that I don’t, in retrospect, enjoy. I had a nightmare last night, and it falls into that category. I actually woke up and was happy to be awake. And then I searched to make sure I had a cat at hand to cuddle, and also made sure my right hand was covered.

I’m losing the details at this point, but it seems that there was some evil entity pressing into my body, into my consciousness, and because of it, I had to be held down at all times.
My family had to sit on me, often, to keep the thing from coming out. It’d been like that for a while, and we couldn’t understand how it happened, or how to get rid of it. It seemed to be a more common problem; people all over the country were having to be held down, to keep the entities in.
If they let go, even just a little bit, the thing would start seeping out like a black cancerous sheet.
At one point, I either managed to get free, or the entity did, and it started coming out, and manifested as a clawlike creature attached to my hand, biting it. I began beating it against the bed, anything to get rid of it. It was biting into my hand, though, which was hurting me, and the additional pressure of me trying to beat it just made the pain even worse.
I’m glad, in a way, that I can’t fully describe how upsetting this dream was. I just remember waking up and being unpleasantly full of adrenaline, and happy that it was just a dream. I even made a point of waking myself all the way up, so I wouldn’t drift back in to the same dream.
Another dream, when I went back to sleep, there was a huge house that had been restored as a museum, and it was scheduled to open soon.
There were a few people in it, putting the final touches on and also keeping eye on the house.
I was able to go have a bath, and started running the water in a large, l-shaped bathtub which ran along two sides of the large bathroom.
But there’s a knock at the door, and Phil Hartman (!) wants to come in and look at the pictures on the wall. I tell him fine, but he can’t be long, because I’m running a bath. I come out, still dressed, and he’s in there for a long time. I worry that he’ll let the water run out, or that the water will get cold. But I don’t get in to take my bath.
I’m outside the building now, somewhere, trying to get back, and I am going to cross at a barely visible crosswalk that isn’t at a corner. A cop sees me, and wants to help me walk across. I look nervously as he plows ahead, ignoring the fast-moving traffic.

I go back into the huge house, and people are starting to mill in, to look around at the exhibits and pictures. I’m still mad that I didn’t get my bath, and am plotting to get back in there, because it’s not part of the regular exhibit.
But instead, people keep sidetracking me. There are people I know here, from people I used to go to high school with, to people from Edwardsburg.
A long line of people on a stairwell is winding through when a picture falls off the wall and hits a girl, about 10 years old. There’s panic, and the girl is hysterically crying, of course, with blood running down her face. She seems like she’s going to be OK, but then the people putting together the house’s exhibit begin to wonder about how securely everything is hung.
I see a group of people from high school, and I’m happy to note they all look pretty fat and ugly, kind of evening the keel. I also note, with a great amount of satisfaction, that I seem to have done a lot more with my life.
I’m still searching for my bath, but never going to get it, as I can’t get through all the people in the maze that seems to be this house.
I end up sitting down in a corner somewhere, where someone hands me an incredibly rich pastry, and then a bunch of people hem in around me, sitting, so I can’t get back up.
Someone asks me a question, but the pastry is so rich and sweet that I can’t speak, and it’s actually pretty sickening.