My dream from last night:

I set my trusty thermal coffee mug on the ground, thinking it was safe. Big mistake. A stray kick sent it tumbling, and before I knew it, my mug was rolling down the driveway like it had a personal vendetta.

In nothing but my underwear, I bolted after it, chasing my caffeinated dreams downhill. That mug was fast—gaining speed with every rotation, hurtling toward a busy intersection. It hit a bump and went airborne, flipping wildly like a caffeinated acrobat.
By some miracle, it dodged cars like a stunt driver, crossing the road unscathed and plunging into a flooded meadow. My mug was gone forever, claimed by the swampy abyss.

Defeated, I trudged back through the bustling intersection, shirtless and in my underwear, enduring the walk of shame under the amused stares of morning commuters.
The end