When I woke up this morning, I tried to describe last night's dreams to David. It went something like this:
We were being chased by someone like the Dollhouse people, because I had helped free some of the other people and I had pulled my own Matrix jack-thing out of the back of my head, but had been faking it. They discovered that I didn't have it, and I ran away and they started chasing us. You and I went to the Riverview to hide and watch a movie. (David: "Hiding and watching a movie sounds like a great idea!")
And there were zombies at some point. (David: "Dreams are always better with zombies.")
...And... I was going to get married! (David: "Hmmmmm.") But to a girl. The wedding was going to be in three weeks, and we were experimenting with how my hair was going to look. It was going to look pretty awesome, actually. But I was already thinking, "Okay, I can just go ahead with this, because clearly I've thought out this decision, and it will probably be fine. And divorce is not that big a deal, anyway, if it doesn't work out. Or I could call the whole thing off... I still have three weeks..."