The car broke down not far outside of Austin, so I got it pushed into the parking lot of a mechanic's. Then I went to find a place to stay. There was a little resort motel nearby, which looked sort of like the Village from The Prisoner, if the builders had been rednecks working with salvage lumber and no plumb lines. Lots of little oddball buildings scattered among the pecan and live oak groves.
Somewhere in here, my family appeared. Dad, (step)mom, my mother,
The animals turned out to be a troop of baboons. They didn't like me pointing. As the Niece and
I wound up spanning my arms wide, jumping up and down and screeching, and pounding my chest. A classic primate aggression display. The baboons backed off a bit, as everyone began running away from me. I was fine with that. The desired result had been reached. As I began to back away from the baboons, still facing them and baring my teeth, the troop ran to attack me.
In real life, I used to live in Nigeria. When you travel cross-country in Nigeria, at least in the north, one thing you do any time you stop the car is watch for baboon troops. They will come to investigate what you're doing, and they will rip your arms off if they feel like it. So even in dreamland, I knew to run like hell.
It turned into a zombie apocalypse dream, with the baboons taking the place of zombies. People were running everywhere, screaming and crying. The baboons were breaking down doors, leaping through windows, running down the weak and slow and unlucky. Taken literally, the whole thing was horrible, but I also knew I was dreaming, so it was more like watching a movie.
I woke up laughing about the whole thing. Other than the cancer, my life is not particularly infused with anxiety just now. Not sure what the dream meant, but it was funny and it was weird.