This Really Is A Shit Day (night of 14/01/2019)

I return home. I am living in a large Vjctorian house in Brighton - a room of separate studio flats. I enter the hallway, and pass by a man on the stairs. One of the other residents. We do not say a word to each other. I go up the stairs to the first floor, then up to the second floor, then up - hold on. The stairs to the third floor end in a wall (brown wood panelling as all of the house). Of course! I live on the first floor! Silly me! Mystery solved... I head down the stairs - but no. That is certainly not my flat. Everywhere seems subtly changed. I think I may head into one of the flats (at the front of the house) - it is certainly not mine though - I look out of the window, and see that though it is the same street I am on the house seems ton have changed location a bit - shifted to the left or right, Perhaps I am in the wrong house? Then I think... as I passed one of the flats, didn't I see the landlord, Dr Raouf (who was my landlord in waking life from 2003 - 2007) doing something. I hope it wasn't in my flat. I did not give him permission. I do not want him to see my flat as it is very messy. It turns out not to be my flat anyway.
Despondent I head out. I am joined by two of our old dogs - docile, as all our old dogs are when they turn up in dreams. At least I have some company. Outside, I turn back and look at the house. Yes, it is definitely mine. A grey and sober day. I ring a friend and tell them what happened.
I am on a train with a number of other people - I think I am going up to Worcester. The train guard comes along and asks for our tickets. I wish I had checked I had mine before boarding the train. I look through my wallet - no, nothing there - then all my pockets. Nothing. To my growing horror I realise that I will have to buy another train ticket. This really is a shit day, I think to myself, what with the issues with the house changing, and now losing my train ticket. The ticket inspector seems sympathetic, and as I go to pay, says that he would need to take my card details for 'VAT purposes' anyway.
*
With a number of other people. Phillipa from Pure Fundraising is one of the people there - or at least someone who resembles her. In the dream though, we had gone to school together when in Scotland. She gets me to tell everyone what she had been like at school, when she was incontinent and had to wear a nappy. She seems quite happy with this tale being told.
*
Returning home, Brighton I think. Scaffolding around buildings. Someone says that a famous Hollywood film star is in town shooting a new film. (An image of someone falling from a piece of scaffolding? Blood pumping? Is it a horror film?). I idly wonder what if someone lived on one of the streets closed for filming. How would they get home? This bothers me. What if someone had a studio on one of the streets used for filming and they had an exhibition to get to (an imagine of someone coming out of a building carrying lots of painting into a busy street). Would the filming stop to allow them to set up the exhibition or not? What would be more important?