An elevator full of mice
Last night I dreamt that I was in an elevator that was absolutely packed with little white mice. I was standing chest deep in these wriggling little things, and I couldn't find the panel of buttons to call a floor or open the door. The mice starting crawling all over me, and some of them started to bite me.
Fortunately, I did have a shotgun with some green plastic trim. It looked like a toy, but when I aimed it down into the mass of mice and fired—avoiding, as best I could, my feet—it took out a solid column of the little guys. "Ha, take that!"
But the dead and bloodied mice soon disappeared under the swarm. As you can imagine, trying to take out 100 cubic feet of vicious, biting mice with a shotgun was not particularly effective. One of them gnawed off a nipple, and another my left ear. Finally, I woke up.
I think this means that small and mundane problems can be overwhelming in vast quantities, especially if you are only equipped with tools to solve larger, singular problems. On the other hand, the message could be as simple as "take the stairs."