Vicious bears and running taps

(Note: This one's probably not for the squeamish.)

Last night I had a dream - okay, a nightmare - in which I was mauled by a bear. I have no idea how I ended up in such a situation but all of a sudden there I was, on a mountain somewhere, looking on in horror as Mr. Bear chewed off first one, then both of my hands. Seriously. I was left with two bloody arm stumps... and then I woke up in a cold sweat.

I have absolutely no idea what would've led my subconscious to this gory little scenario. I'm not a fan of horror films and haven't seen anything blood-and-gutsy (unless you count Grey's Anatomy) in months, maybe years. It's been a stressful week, though, and I did have two cheese sandwiches for lunch yesterday - perhaps contributing factors? Or is a dream like that proof that I have, in fact, gone completely batshit?

My colleagues were pretty sympathetic when I told the story earlier this afternoon. One guy on my team told me about a Russian custom for dealing with bad dreams. Apparently the thing to do is to go into the bathroom, turn on the taps full blast and tell the dream to the running water, thus washing it down the plughole. Good to know, but I sincerely hope I don't have cause to try it out any time soon.