Morning of December 8, 2014. Monday.
There is a first time for everything, apparently, including the bizarre method of travel I use at one point here. In this dream, my task is to go and buy food for my family. My dream is fairly long and starts out with a long meandering scenario involving some magazines, which, for some reason I first plan on taking to the store by tying the bag around the bicycle handles (it seems someone is visiting my family and I do not want them to read my books or lose them). I then decide that it may not be a good idea due to the cashier thinking I got the magazines there and having been placed in the bag without paying for them. This of course, makes little sense as I would not be taking my bicycle into the store anyway. Later, I decide to put them in a bookcase, farther back under the bottom shelf on the floor (so that the visitor may not think to look there).
The time is ambiguous and seems to go back and forth from night and day like an Ed Wood movie. Instead of riding a bicycle to the store (which I have not done in real life for over twenty years - I mostly only walk a fair distance), I cheerfully indulge in a rather odd way of travel (almost feeling as if I am “showing off”). I am on my stomach in the street, though closer to the curb, and with my right hand stretched out ahead of me. My right hand is pressing palm down on what seems to be a circular section of sandpaper, rough side down, which seems to be some sort of device used to move fairly fast. I start to slide very rapidly down the street on my stomach, though without feeling much resistance at all. There apparently is not much friction in this method of travel and it is fairly comfortable. I notice other people on the sidewalk and a few people in their yards; a couple working in a garden. I slide past them fairly fast and I am wondering what they are thinking about my higher speed travel. I even pass a few cars on the way.
At one point, an unfamiliar young boy, a little older than my youngest son, is also traveling this way on my right. For some reason, I am annoyed that he is able to keep up to my speed. I eventually get to the grocery store, which is fairly small and without many items available. I contemplate that I will have to have the groceries on my back in perhaps a knapsack as I travel back home in the same manner.
I consider buying a bottle of drink; some sort of fruit juice, perhaps carbonated, in a plastic bottle, it seems. However, there are only about five bottles (near the checkout and to my right) and all of them are bent or broken at the top. Another older male (possibly sixty) picks up an already damaged bottle and it breaks more near the neck. I tell him that they are not suitable for purchase. He makes some sort of seemingly random comment about having recently lived in, I believe, a third world country, but I do not recall the name. (This may reflect a real-life event where I watched a male pick up a cheap glass in a store and it automatically shattered just as he picked it up, possibly from the heat of his hand. He had to get it bandaged, but the other glasses remained and I noticed other small broken pieces each time I went into that store.)
Later, I go to an area to buy some sort of bread rolls that have smaller meat-based meals inside them. However, one must use a supplied fork to take them out from the cluster they are arranged in (similar to how one uses tongs in real life to take individual buns from the store’s display case). Looking down, a large section of the display contains something that resembles the remains of a turkey dinner for a larger group of people, with several pieces of silverware sitting in grease, mostly submerged. It seems a bit odd to me and not quite hygienic. I take a fork out of the grease and try to get a couple buns out from the cluster on the shelf above, but they mostly all fall apart. My dream mostly loses cohesion at this point and I never do attain anything to buy.
This is probably me telling myself to improve my diet for the most part (and perhaps to “wear down my stomach” a bit to rejuvenate somewhat), though I really have not eaten much greasy or fried foods for the better part of my life.