How'd I get here?

I'm in France. Don't know what makes me believe I'm in France, I just know.

But how? It isn't possible. I haven't got a passport.

It'd expired three years ago. However last week, getting some new photographs done, I dropped them, an application, a check and my old passport into the mail. So definitely no passport currently in my possession.

No way I could've gotten out of the country and into another country, legitimately.

Must've snuck in, a la Sydney Bristow. Cue Alias music.

Suddenly, the tightening of anxiety strikes me. How will I get out of this?

I go seeking a friend. All I remember is he's hot but I'm not looking for him in that way. He can help me.

I find his office, don't know how, but I do. It's empty. I wait inside.

Upon entering, someone speaks to me in muttered tones from behind.
I acknowledge and respond, telling them to turn on the lights. The lights don't work.
They only wash the room in black light. Useless.

Whoever it is, they're ushering me out. Off the desk, I grab a piece of paper to leave a note upon. I start checking off boxes. Before long, I realize I'm defacing a ticket for a dance party. Doing my best to replace it, so as it looks undisturbed, I smooth it out, comically.

As I'm departing, a sudden wave of relief washes over me.

I may not know how I got here, but rest assured, I'll figure a way out.
Spinning on my foot, I turn for the door…

…and I wake up, relieved.