My dreams are very mundane

Last night I dreamed that I went to fetch the newspaper from the front door. It wasn't on the doormat, but hanging through the letter box. So I pulled it, and someone outside pulled back. I kept pulling, half expecting that the paper would tear apart, but I was triumphant, and the paper was mine. The person outside was very annoyed, and gave the door a couple of very hard kicks, but I slammed it shut (only wait, surely it was closed all along?) and was scrabbling in my bag for the key to deadlock it when the attacker began cutting round the glass panel in the door with a stanley knife (there is no glass panel in the door; there is a window above, but the door itself is solid wood): I could see the blade poking through as it worked round the efge of the pane. Luckily, my mother (no, she is no longer alive) turned up, and I was able to say to her "Deadlock the door, and then call the police!" Even in the dream, I was surprised when she did.

That's when I woke up. I don't often remember my dreams, but I don't think I'm missing much.

Last Thursday, the newsagent had a problem with his drivers, and failed to deliver our daily paper. Has my unconscious been brooding about this ever since?