I think I may have a bit of anxiety going on right now.
I say this because I am having the most realistic, vivid dreams I've had since high school (when I discovered lucid dreaming mostly in self-defense), and the dreams are all, I kid you not, nightmares about home improvement. And they're the worst kind of nightmares, that are absolutely terrifying while you're having them and then you wake up and realize that there was *nothing* terrifying or horrific about them. At all. The subject of the dream itself was entirely and completely mundane, and yet your heart is racing and there's sweat everywhere and your body apparently thinks that something just tried to kill you.
Case in point, the dream I had last night (which is all of a piece; my dreams are often serialized and this week has been no different) where I was remodeling my bathroom, woke up and forgot about the fact that the bathroom was under construction, took a shower, and then realized that there were giant holes in the floor and I had just flooded my basement and done huge damage to the floors and support beams of the house. I had that sick feeling you get when you realize you've just done something irretrievably stupid, irreversibly permanent, ludicrously expensive, and there is absolutely no one but yourself that you can blame for it. In the dream, I never actually went down to the basement, but I could hear the dripping water from the dark hole, and the creaking of the wet wood as it started to give (because, apparently in my dream, wood is water-soluble). And I was standing there trying to figure out how I was going to pay for the damage without robbing a bank or killing someone for the insurance money.
So, I suppose, the question is from where is this anxiety coming, and why suddenly now? I suppose it's a good thing I have therapy on Tuesday...