Joy: perfectly golden buttered toast

I don’t know about you all, but I’m a 75% fan of sourdough bread. I usually think it’s great, but sometimes it just doesn’t hit the spot like other breads. (Read: cinnamon swirl, sour cream & pecan, pumpk chocolate chip…you get the idea.) Today, however, the toasted slices hit the spot like popsicles on a hot summer’s day, or chapstick on sunburned lips, or BBC’s Pride & Prejudice anytime you have 5 hours to spare.

This snack brought me an embarrassing amount of pleasure today. So much so that I couldn’t even be bothered to get myself a plate. Could barely take the time to set the toast on the table and snap a pic before gobbling them up. Passersby peering through the windows shortly thereafter may or may not have seen a large-bellied woman in her early 30s shamelessly licking crumbs off the table. I’ll never tell.

Speaking of: is it normal that food brings about so much joy on a day-to-day basis? Because I seem to be categorically shifting into a “foodie blog” here. Heh.

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