I sometimes think that the only reason we dream is to trick us into getting out of bed.
When I wake up and am still in confused semi-awareness, I remember my dreams as reality and I think that the world's a really interesting place.
"Gotta get up! They're making a movie in Antarctica with a commissary that serves deep-fried cheese fingers, and every town has a house where the gay kids think up fabulous disguises, and a rotten banana is chasing the boyscout. What an incredible world we live in!"
Then I turn on the light and realize that I WON'T be going to Antarctica today...instead I'll just be going to breakfast, which is nice but not NEARLY so exciting.
Maybe if we didn't dream we'd never turn on the light?