Elevator

So, a guy my parents' age, back when I was in my 20-30's (I'm 62, my parents have been dead for 15-20 years), I was thinking/feeling about him the same as I thought of my parents friends then, came to my house (or office where I lived?) at 3:00-4:00 in the morning and woke "us" up and I'm turning on lights and making him welcome and felt it was fine/expected, I "knew what to do". He wanted bourbon with milk (my parents drank bourbon and I was thinking about bourbon and milk just a couple days ago with a friend) and I was telling my husband to use the half-and-half (which I have in my refrigerator now, an ingredient in a chowder I'm making tonight for dinner) and I'm bustling around.

Then I wanted to go to an upper floor, something like wanting to take a walk around the block would feel, no specific reason, there might have been an open roof area or shopping center up there, and got in the wood-grained/paneled elevator by myself and was shooting up quite fast and suddenly it broke, stopped very jarringly and I felt frustration and annoyance; I was getting ready to push the red button to sound the alarm and woke up instead. It was like I was going to miss what was happening where I "should" have been, down with my husband and guest.

Some thing is stopping you from "Elevateing" above the Situation. The open air at the roof top indicates freedom and your quest for freedom. What is holding you back (down)?