I went through a period of about three or four months where I couldn't remember if I even had any dreams. Then for about three weeks in a row I'd have two recurring dreams. One was I was transplanted into a zombie filled world, and I'd be brutally tortured and eaten by some super fast undead creatures ala the new Dawn Of The Dead movie. I won't say how many times I woke up with my heart pounding.
The other dream thankfully was much easier. It was the same theme, except it was against the old school, super slow zombies. Those dreams were better. They played out like Shaun Of The Dead.
I miss the dreams where I can fly, however.