I dreamt the front left wheel came off of our “good” car.
Looked easy enough to fix, but it wasn’t, and I went ahead and made things worse by removing other parts by accident which caused various bolts to fall to the ground and become lost.
Later I was driving up a narrow street, one which resembles the tight corridors in Seaside Heights lined with cheapo bungalows. I learned Cynthia lived there, but I wanted to avoid her. At one point she walked out of one of those homes, greeted me with “Hello husband” and it kinda weirded me out.