I have Destroyed the Universe. Again.
Dreams are Weird
Your brain might be doing whatever random shooting off that it does when you're dreaming, but there's almost always a sense of internal consistency. While you're in the dream, whatever you're trying to accomplish or find or do feels like it makes perfect sense. You feel like you normally do, or like you normally would in unusual circumstances. "I'm going from here to there," "I'm trying to accomplish this task," "Oh shit, that's dangerous!" It's like your mind is placing normal, default modes of operation on top of the random crap it's flitting through. It's only when you try to explain it afterwards that it makes no freakin' sense.
Because it feels internally consistent, it's like when you're dreaming, you're running around in an alternate reality with entirely different rules. Then the dream ends, and that reality ceases to exist, forever. It's like you're creating universes every night, and casually destroying them every morning (not that you have any choice in the matter).
And then there's me. I almost never remember my dreams. This morning I woke up early to water in/water out, with a sense that I had been busily dreaming something. But all memory of that dream was already gone. Who knows what kind of interesting (or dull, or irritating) life I'd been living just a few moments ago. But that life, its reality, and all of the rules (places, relationships, even its physics) that made up that reality ceased to exist. *poof!*
(Okay, not terribly original, perhaps. But it was a grand philosophical tangent to be following before the alarm clock went off.)