On Dreaming (#21)

My two kittens, sleeping soundly together, on my daughter's bed.
Do other animals, besides humans, dream?
(I am assuming the bottom one is comfortable.)

Sigh. I do not have anything worthwhile to share with you tonight. Nothing like I promised in last week's post. However, instead of skipping a week of blogging, I decided to go my standard Plan B: I am going to share a dream with you. After a two-week drought in late December, I have recorded several since the new year. Sorry if I disappointed. But to those who enjoy these diversion into my messy unconscious, here you go.

(In my defense, I had not shared one since July 9, 2023. That one was a good one. And still relevant today.)

This one involved a grocery store. No surprise, since I spend the better part of every Monday driving forty minutes round trip, a half an hour roaming about, at least forty-five minutes at home unpacking everything, then a good hour prepping food for the week. 

The dream began with my entering a store that had not quite opened for the day. Some of the overhead lights were on, but others were flickering, while a few remained off. So, there pockets of shadows strewn about the place. I made my way from one end to the other, from produce to dairy, quickly, barely trekking up and down aisles. By the time I reached the end, near the bakery (that is how this particular store is laid out), there were just a half dozen items in my cart.

Obviously, something was wrong. Then it dawned on me: there were not fruits or vegetables. I had rushed through the produce aisle without so much as picking up a bunch of bananas, or bag of salad mix. So, I traveled down the front of the store, back to where I had started.

My arrival was filled with disappointment. There were little variety. Maybe a dozen items. And what was available appeared rotten. I picked what I could, and left the department. But I decided to continue on shopping, focusing on spending more time in the aisles. However, as I began my journey, the manager appeared. I guess she sensed my frustration in the produce section. She apologized, handing me a six-dollar-off coupon for produce. It inspired me to give it another try.

That is when I discovered my cart, and all the items in it, were missing. I panicked. For some reason, I felt I had lost a part of me. I roamed between the near-empty stands of fruits and vegetables searching desperately. My anxiety increased. Finally, I made my way to the customer service desk, and asked the lady behind it if someone had turned in my cart. 

And to my relief, she replied, that, yes, indeed, some young boy had found it in an aisle, unattended, and brought it to her. I wanted to thank him personally, but he was not available. Still I felt relief. 

Then I woke up.