Subconscious, what?

I've been having some bizarre dreams lately.  See if you can follow this...

Two nights ago, I dreamt that a plane crashed in my backyard, barely missing me.  As I'm laying on the ground with my eyes squeezed shut, trying not to wet myself, I hear this weird noise and open my eyes to see zombies clawing their way out of the plane.  No wonder the plane crashed, I think (in my dream) and take off for the house.  There's this FBI dude at my house for some reason, and he looks like the FBI dude from Prison Break last season, but he doesn't run fast enough and gets partially eaten.  I get into the house to find that my mom is there, and she's opened the gun safe and laid out all of B's guns on the kitchen counter (there are a lot more in my dream than we own in real life too), but she forgot the ammo in the other room.  I go to grab it but the zombies are already in the room so I run and hide in the linen closet.  The end.

Last night, I dreamt that I met Linda of All & Sundry, one of my favorite bloggers, because I had discovered that her husband was my long lost cousin (not that far-fetched considered I've never met about 70% of my extended family) and we were going hiking outside Seattle.  On the way back to her house, the city was hit by mortar fire (I remember being able to see one shell falling through the air and take out the bridge in front of us, it was very vivid...) and Linda and I were kidnapped (along with a ton of other people) by the terrorists.  The terrorists kept saying that they were the REAL Al Quaida, and that they were sick of these other terrorists claiming to be Al Quaida when they were just a bunch of posers, so they kidnapped us to blog and Twitter about it and tell the world that the REAL Al Quaida were a bunch of pacifists.  And I got into an argument with them about it because hello, they just bombed the shit out of Seattle and killed a bunch of people, how could they call themselves pacifists?  And Linda was like, shut UP and WRITE.  The end.

I don't get it.