Why do we spend so much time daydreaming? What makes it so important? The answer, I think, is in the most awesome opening line for a novel EVER:
How great is that? We need to dream. Dreaming is so essential to well-being that even birds and clicking, leaf-impersonating bugs do it. I mean, reality can be boring. And stressful. Overwhelming. Discouraging. Dangerous, even. But it's all good, because we can create our own reality. We are safe in our power to dream.
I'd like to know: what do y'all dream about, awake or otherwise?
*The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson