Anxiety Dream II, Electric Bugaloo (No Shatner)

Another anxiety dream, but not the usual kind. I wonder if my subconscious is annoyed by my harping on how they're all the same. "Oh yeah? Predictable, am I? I'll show you!"

We (snippy and I, and possibly Twoson) are staying in a hotel room. Or a condo, or something. In any case, it belongs to someone else, who maintains it for his use but is seldom there. So we're using it. Someone else is, too, but it's a big suite, so that's not a problem.

We're there with the owner's permission, but not officially. Everything is fine until someone (I forget who) makes our presence known to the hotel staff by making some kind of request or demand of them (room service, maybe) by phone. The phone immediately rings back and I know it's the hotel staff calling to find out who's staying in the room and if they're supposed to be there. So we cleverly don't answer it, even though we just called from here so they clearly known _somebody_ is in the room.

Eventually they turn up at the door asking questions to which we don't have very good answers, and I can see that the fat lady has sung. We're going to have to vacate, which means finding somewhere else to stay for the remainder of the vacation/convention/whatever, and spending a lot more money than we'd planned on.

Hmmm. Two anxiety dreams in as many nights. Obviously something is going on down in my subconscious mind, but I don't know what. Or why.