Field work spider; the post-apocalyptic beach community; soft

I woke up in a bed at my field work, disoriented. I knew I wasn't supposed to be working there that day, and I hadn't known they had a bed there. Then the people who had interviewed me for next year's work came in and were being shown around. I was embarrassed but also kind of annoyed, since I wasn't even supposed to be there and just trying to sleep. Then I noticed a big cockroach on the shoulder of a colleague. I went over to surruptitiously wipe it off him, but it kept sort of sliding out of the way and then rising up and I saw it was a spider hanging from a thread. The closer I got, the bigger I realized it was. I got close and then realized I couldn't get away fast enough if it decided to drop on my head.

Then I was part of a post-apocalyptic beach community. There were some apartment buildings nearby, super-crowded. I got an allotment for one and had to squeeze myself through a small door to get in.

Then I was in a fancy restaurant with a childhood friend and the waiter was trying to bully me into some dessert I didn't want and part of the service was that he was cutting my hair.

On my way out of town, I noticed two very big, soft birds sitting on fenceposts. I went over and gave them both a squeeze, knowing they were too scared to try to fly away. They were delightfully soft.