True (butter seared in a pestle ground fennel crust)
You are pretty sure that if we could communicate with ants, a perfectly mutual arrangement could be made for them to clean the house while you sleep or are out; and they get to eat whatever they find.
You believe with a momentary lapse in the laws that govern gravity, a strong headwind, and a granite-like personal resolve, you will finally be able to jump off the garage roof and fly free ino the azure firmament like an ungainly, yet dignified, bottom-heavy grouse.
You've needed something from the kitchen but you are butt naked ready for a shower so you start to dash there modestly but then say to yourself "fuck it" and do a little naked dance on the way and on the way back.