My birthday is one of those "special occasions" when I rationalize breaking from my fairly good nutritional standards and indulge a little bit. But unhealthy food fuels some wicked night terrors.
To wit, a grilled cheese burger (this is a cursed offering at a local pub - a salty hamburger sandwiched between two greasy grilled cheese sandwiches) brings forth nightmares of unbridled proportions.
Last night I dreamed of a massive centipede infestation. But not just any centipedes. BIG old mean centipedes. That could jump. AND fly. AND lay weird sausage shaped eggs everywhere, produced parthenogenetically, that hatched within seconds, making destruction of them nigh impossible. When an adult was cornered and smashed with a blunt object, it would explode, spattering bug parts on everything, and leaving behind a mass of said eggs.
This is why I eat salads.