Always, in the past, whenever I dreamt of food--piling it on a tray in a restaurant or in a cafeteria--I actually never get to taste or eat it. Either something happens that compels me to leave the food or I wake up. Like dreams in which someone or something is chasing you.

Last night I dreamt that I was in a restaurant, and that I was actually eating the food on my plate and enjoying it.

I believe that, as one ages, one's worlds merge in one's dreams, and that one eventually gets what he wants.