A Few of my Nightmares

I have a few nightmares last night -- in one I dream of arguing with my father about how he talks to me. In the dream my dad is dismissive, I am angry, even shrill. In the dream, I tell him I noticed how warm, personal, and engaging he is when he talks to my cousin Bill -- but with me he asks a few polite questions and lets me do all the talking -- essentially rambling like a fool while he sits back. The whole scene in the dream is unpleasant, with no resolution or catharsis, leaving me with the worst feeling. I wake up and I feel as if I have chopped off a finger. But I am so tired, I have to get more rest. When I dream again, I slide into a panic where furniture has to be moved and the movers and packers are gone, and it is too late do do anything about it. Then the baby cries and I give him a new bottle, back to bed, back to sleep where the dreams are monochrome monotonous and boring.