(no subject)
I am eating the nastiest toast. Toast, for me, is one of those foods where, when I need toast, I freaking need toast.
When I got home from work today, I needed toast.
Breadbox is empty; so is the butter dish. There are tiny scrapings of grape jam left in the jar. So I went digging. My parent's kitchen is kind of an Aladdin's Cave of forgotten foods. They really, really want to be into food and cooking, but in reality, they don't have much time for it. I found some frozen hot dog buns in the freezer and some kind of butter-like thing in the very, very back of the fridge. I think it's made up of so few organic compounds that it will not go bad. I could not find an expiration date. Solid frozen hot dog bun doesn't fit in the toaster, so I have to wrangle the toaster oven. It's an adventure because I have no idea how or whether it works. Finally, I have two pieces of vaguely warm, very slightly crispy white bread carefully loaded.
It tastes like how I imagine everything on the Space Station tastes like, which is to say: not much.
When I got home from work today, I needed toast.
Breadbox is empty; so is the butter dish. There are tiny scrapings of grape jam left in the jar. So I went digging. My parent's kitchen is kind of an Aladdin's Cave of forgotten foods. They really, really want to be into food and cooking, but in reality, they don't have much time for it. I found some frozen hot dog buns in the freezer and some kind of butter-like thing in the very, very back of the fridge. I think it's made up of so few organic compounds that it will not go bad. I could not find an expiration date. Solid frozen hot dog bun doesn't fit in the toaster, so I have to wrangle the toaster oven. It's an adventure because I have no idea how or whether it works. Finally, I have two pieces of vaguely warm, very slightly crispy white bread carefully loaded.
It tastes like how I imagine everything on the Space Station tastes like, which is to say: not much.