Things started out pretty well last Wednesday. Maria and I both got moving a little earlier than usual. Before I knew it, I was all ready to leave for work 10 minutes before usual.

I putzed around the house a little any way. My iPod wasn’t going to load itself. Regardless, I strolled out the door at about the usual time with no real reason to rush. This was the first nice day after all the rain, so I got all my stuff inside the car and headed for work.

Or so I thought. After a block or two – and this is after making on left-hand turn – I heard some kind of weird noise. I checked the cover for the sunroof first. Sometimes I don’t pull that completely shut, and it rattles. But that wasn’t the problem.

I looked over at the passenger seat. I had driven with co-workers to meetings the two previous days, so I wondered if the seat belt got tangled and was bouncing against something. Or maybe they left something in the seat that was rattling. No dice there either. Then I heard a small thud, a roll and one more strange sound.

Before I had a chance to even look in my driver’s side mirror, I knew what had happened. I looked back and prayed that no one would run over my travel mug as it bounced along the road side, spreading hot coffee along Baer Avenue.

I somehow forgot to put my travel mug in the cup holder on a day when I had no reason to rush. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but it is the first time that I have made it about four blocks, including the turn I earlier mentioned, before I realized I didn’t have my mug in the cupholder next tome.

Sometimes I do realize my mistake before I start driving. A few times I have gotten part of the way up the street and noticed, fortunate to stop before the mug tumbles down the road.

But the silver mug has crashed to the ground at least two times before last week’s episode. The first time, the handle on the mug paid the ultimate price. I didn’t really mind because it fit better into the cupholder without the handle.

The second time chipped off the piece of plastic on the lid which made it easy to pop the top open. Enough of it still exists to make the mug useable.

As I circled the block to get the mug – I did consider leaving it, but it does have my name on it so I didn’t want to just leave it lying in the street – I started to worry that I would have to find a new mug. I love this mug. I couldn’t imagine trying to find a replacement that wouldn’t lead to a million spills on my shirt.

Luckily, only the plastic base had cracked. The mug itself retained its indestructibility and the lid must have learned something from the previous crashes because it made it through without further damage.

So I still had my mug and I had an excuse to go get a new cup of hot steaming coffee on a brisk sunny morning. Like I said, things started out pretty well last Wednesday.