Driving Up to 80: a possible end-of-life dream

I drive into an immense walled space. The walls rise for many stories. In front of me is what appears to be a giant speedometer, hanging on the wall like a clock. I know my way forward requires me to drive straight up the wall and that I need to choose a place on the dial to aim for. I think 100 is too much, so I aim nearer 80.

    I floor the gas pedal, racing towards the wall. My car adjusts beautifully, tilting up at the first touch, as if made of rubber. I fly up the wall to a place near the 80 digits on the giant speedometer. So far, so good.
    However, getting down will be a challenge. My car now seems more like a bicycle, and I realize there is no way I can ride it down the wall. I’ll have to lower myself, little by little, gripping a edge I discover. This is the edge of an enormous panel or screen that covers part of the wall. But it crumbles like an old strip of cardboard when I try to use it as a handhold as I go down the wall.
    This doesn’t faze me. I’m willing to let go and drop the whole distance, seemingly hundreds of feet. I know that no serious harm can come to me.

Feelings: mildly curious, philosophical.

Reality: I suspect this was an “end of life” dream, rehearsing me for the last stage of life. 80 or 80-something would seem a better life term than 100, especially if by that time I am losing my edge!