A Dream With Sandwiches and Yellowjackets.

Last night I dreamt that me and my guitarist Ray (sometimes other people) were walking home and stopped to play volleyball with a Chinese family. Ray ordered some sandwiches on his cell phone. When they arrived, the father had turned into my landlord, Achilles. He told us the grim truth. We had died and were ghosts, who came every day and ordered sandwiches. He brought us out to the alley, where there were piles of sandwiches, some fresh and some rotting, and other things to clean up. I was cleaning some sort of screened trellis when I noticed these large yellowjackets. They began to swarm, some of them on fire, attacking me, and I woke.