Too much Grocery Watch just before bed

I had an epic, episodic dream last night which ought to have been a nightmare strictly speaking but in practice was more like an overlong, clumsily constructed disaster movie. A boring dream, commencing with an unspecified yet boring critical emergency of some kind, signalled by the complete breakdown of society, no water, food, law-abiding or electricity etc. Me in my house feeling vulnerable to roving gangs of looters because of the picture windows facing the street, yet unable to work up enough care factor to do something about barricading them up. (This may relate to the fact that after a year and a half's residence the front windows are still painted shut and still not properly kitted out with functioning winders and so forth.) Later in the dream I stood in darkness on the front terrace and looked out of the familiar evening panorama of suburban streetlights, observing with extreme weariness two or three jets tumbling screaming from the sky and exploding into boring fireballs that belched cones of black smoke. Later still Dorian acquired from somewhere (ebay?) a cache of tinned carrots, and reclined like Olympia among them, anticlimactically forestalling the desperate measures starvation seemed certain to have brought us to. The remainder of the dream was taken up with a lengthy and inconclusive discussion about how many of what types of vegetables we should plant in spring and in which part of the yard, which is exactly what happens every day of my life in the non dreaming world.