I'm at a buffet in line with a bunch of friends. I am looking for something different, and I'm very hungry. (I went to bed hungry.)
The woman serving some of the food mentions a roast beef soup and how good it is, but you can only get it if you are black or black-friendly. So she asks me to recite some of the books I've read to prove it. Incidentally, IRL I am white with two biracial children, anyway, as in most dreams, this is perfectly logical to me.
So I recite some, I can't remember most, and I mention that I am re-reading Up From Slavery by Booker T. Washington (which I am doing IRL). I then get to have the soup, which I taste, and which is so delicious that I eat almost all of it before I even get to the table with my friends.
Later in the dream, I am chasing around inside a large office type building, going up and down elevators that let me off on the wrong floor, stop for a long time between floors, and refuse to open their doors, with two small children, one of whom is actually an infant and belongs to me. He is a white boy, blonde, and I am feeling all the things I used to, as a mother out shopping somewhere with two small, hungry, tired, whiney toddlers.