Waking up with the chickens

Don't count your chickens before they are hatched

You can't hatch chickens from fried eggs

I woke in the hour before dawn, stuck in that strange state where the memory of your dreams is still powerful enough to motivate your actions.

In some parts of Ireland the sleep which knows no waking is always followed by a wake which knows no sleeping.

I do not know how to distinguish between our waking life and a dream. Are we not always living the life that we imagine we are?