As I've aged, I've discovered I need less sleep. That is, even on days when I'm not going to work, I still get up as if I were. I pad around a bit, mostly getting the newspaper off the porch and laying it out on the kitchen table for my wife (who is the reason we subscribe to it. I much prefer the other local newspaper, and despite the hours I spend on line, I still like to have a newspaper--not a browser rendition of it on my phone/camera/instant messenger/dessert topping device, with my morning coffee). On days off, I tend to go back to bed and fitfully sleep until the rest of my house starts to catch up with me.
I remember very few of my dreams (I have a vague disquiet for a moment after waking up that I think is how I sense I may have been dreaming). I've read all (or a lot of) the literature on how often we dream and why and the roles dreams play in our waking lives, so I'm not sure why, or if, I should be concerned in any way that the projectionist in my head seems to take more nights off than he works. Maybe just as well, since he rarely rewinds the reels and leaves them tails out before shipping.
I can recall in the past having difficulties at times distinguishing dreams from reality. A lifetime or two ago, I had an opportunity to interview Pete Townsend (he was doing press across Europe for his Empty Glass solo album) and I asked him about a project I'd heard he was involved in with Paul McCartney, a studio-only group, called The Amazing Jump-Suit Twins. He seemed pretty blase and non-committal about what I would have assumed was quite a collaboration (this was early 80's). It was only later, after the interview while speaking with his manager, that I learned there was no such band and (as the weeks went by) I, too, realized I had never heard or read about it anywhere, except in my sleep. I still think it would have been quite a group, but I'm not sure if I'm dreaming that I think that or if I really think it.
That might help explain my more recent reluctance to regard more seriously Macca's ongoing partnership with Martin Glover, The Fireman, even though I've been to Penny Lane ('four of fish and finger pies' and thank you, Dr. Richard Arthur George for explaining that line all those years ago) on more occasions than I'd care to admit.
I don't know whether I'm more curious about where dreams come from, or, when you open your eyes, where they go. Most importantly of all (and I suspect I'm not alone on this) I wonder how to bring those signs and wonders I see in my dreams to the life I live when I awaken-- ay, there's the rub.