Cars, Changes, and Control: A Dream

I drove into a Trader Joe’s parking lot to park and shop. I was driving my old white BMW 2002, a car I haven’t owned since I left Germany in 1991. It made ‘dream sense’ because I was about the age I was when I owned the car.

The parking lot’s left side was completely empty, bewildering me — why wasn’t anyone parked there? A large sign, facing the wrong way, explained not to park on the left side. Oh.

I moved my car. An older couple, dressed in fancy clothes, was there. I told them as I walked away from my car, “It would help if the sign faced the entrance, you know? Is something going on here today?”

They didn’t answer me but I heard the man saw as I walked away, “He’ll find out.” The woman tittered.

The store was busy inside. I decided to put down my cloth shopping bags for a moment and put them on a chair back by the older couple. Inside, shopping, I decided that I would buy a few things and picked up a frozen dessert that attracted my eye. As I thought about buying a few more things, I remembered that I’d left my shopping bags on that chair and rushed back to get them.

The bags were gone. I searched all over, but they were definitely gone. Morose, I returned inside to buy the frozen dessert.

Going back, my car was parked elsewhere but I knew where. It was also not my white BMW, but my wife’s gray Ford Focus. I went to the car’s right side to get in. Then I stepped back out and looked again where it was parked. The car to the left was so close, that door — which should be the driver’s side door — couldn’t be opened. I thought, it’s a good thing that I don’t drive on that side. Yet, I knew, with some confused reflection, driving is done from the car’s left side, not the right.

I was driving at the point and discovered a passenger, a pregnant young woman reading a book. First, I noticed that the book had my name on the front, but, startled by her presence, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you there.”

She replied, “I’m Gail. My daughter was with you when you were driving an SUV in a foreign land, a wild country. She wanted to visit you because she’s worried.”

Driving, I wondered and asked, “Is your daughter born yet?”

Gail answered, “No, but she’s due.”

I then turned left. The road ended and I was suddenly driving through a woods heavy with water puddles and thick, black mud. Gail said, “I want to get out here.”

“No,” I replied. “I don’t know what happened to the road but I’m turning around. I’ll take you back and let you out.”

I whipped the car around and was back on the road in a few seconds. Gail got out. I opened the hatchback to put a bicycle in because I knew it was mine. Then I wondered, why is my bike here?

Dream end.

Frida’s Wandering Thoughts

I was shopping at Trader Joe’s yesterday. As I considered blueberries and wondered how much I was willing to pay for my fruit, a loaf of bread fell to the floor to my left, about six feet away.

Nobody was anywhere near it. I walked over, reshelved it, and returned to the blueberries where I cursed high prices and selected my berries. As I did, a tub of yogurt jumped from the shelf to the floor on my right, about six feet away.

WTH? Nobody was there. I walked over, reshelved it, and headed down another aisle. As I did, a box of pasta leaped off a shelf and landed on the floor about six feet ahead of me.

WTAF???

This time, as I went to pick it up, a TJ employee overtook me. “I’ll take care of that, sir,” she said.

“Okay, thanks.” I then explained, “This is the third thing that fell or jumped from the shelf to the floor in front of me today. Some of it does seem like it jumped and didn’t fall. It’s like I’m following the ghost of a klutzy Trader Joe’s shopper.”

She chuckled. “Well, you never know what you’ll find at Trader Joe’s.”

Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Jingle Jangle.

It’s a Trader Joe’s offering for the holidays. Basically, dark and milk chocolate is poured over pretzels, nuts, popcorn, caramel corn, etc. Some tiny pseudo milk-chocolate and dark-chocolate Reece’s Peanut Butter cups and faux M&Ms are thrown in.

Reading about it — a man bought fifty of the tins to give as gifts because he found it so good! — my wife thought that she would buy some for friends. But first, you know, being a good gifter, she thought we needed to try it out. We did that last night.

At first, yum. That’s good dark chocolate but what is it that it’s covering? We thoroughly tested and tasted, sampling everything. “Really sweet,” she said.

“It is really sweet,” I agreed. “I’m feeling a little sick.”

She nodded. “Me, too.”

I cut the sweetness with water and urge myself, stop eating. But the damn stuff was addicting. Finally, stomach in full rebellion against more, I ceased.

“I don’t think we’ll give that to anyone,” my wife announced. “It’s just too sweet for everyone we know.”

I agreed. Then I wondered, what are we going to do with the rest of a tin of Jingle Jangle?

I bet it goes good with coffee.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Do you know that they still sell packages of cookies that don’t reseal? I’m not talkin’ of one or two cookies; these are packages of twenty-four cookies. It’s like they expect us to eat all the cookies at once so they’d don’t bother with a resealable package. It’d be uncivilized for us to eat a few and then set aside an open package of cookies. The cookies’ freshness must be preserved.

Those manufacturers not providing resealable packages are really cruel. Mean. Barbaric. I’m looking at you, Trader Joe’s.

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