Sadly, this is not a review of one of the funniest movies ever made.
I am not a stupid person.
In the evening, when I'm sitting in the basement, I often miss the stars. I hardly every look for the stars when I'm outside, but I still miss them.
When I'm alone though, inevitably I'll do something stupid. And I'll have to reevaluate whether I am a stupid person or not.
Tonight, I got a sandwich from the grocery store. The customer before me had his heated up, and I wanted mine heated up as well, but the woman didn't do it, and I am hesitant, even when paying, to correct people. At home, I turned the oven on and stared at the sandwich in the wrapper. I tried to remember whether the sandwiches at Potbelly's had wrapping on them when they went through the toaster oven. In my mind, I somehow pictured the sandwiches moving briskly through the oven with paper already attached. On some level, I knew that this could not be true, and yet, here was the sandwich that I wanted to eat, already wrapped up. You can see my conundrum.
I put it in the broiler and set the timer for ten minutes. After eight minutes, I smelled smoke. When I opened the broiler, my sandwich was on fire. Or, more accurately, the paper wrapped around the sandwich was on fire, bits of ashy paper sailed throughout the kitchen, I blew out the fire, swept the ashes from the stove, from the floor, and threw them away. Then I put my sandwich in the oven, paperless, and waited for it to warm, wondering what other stupidities I'd be up too, if given enough time alone.
I am not a stupid person.
In the evening, when I'm sitting in the basement, I often miss the stars. I hardly every look for the stars when I'm outside, but I still miss them.
When I'm alone though, inevitably I'll do something stupid. And I'll have to reevaluate whether I am a stupid person or not.
Tonight, I got a sandwich from the grocery store. The customer before me had his heated up, and I wanted mine heated up as well, but the woman didn't do it, and I am hesitant, even when paying, to correct people. At home, I turned the oven on and stared at the sandwich in the wrapper. I tried to remember whether the sandwiches at Potbelly's had wrapping on them when they went through the toaster oven. In my mind, I somehow pictured the sandwiches moving briskly through the oven with paper already attached. On some level, I knew that this could not be true, and yet, here was the sandwich that I wanted to eat, already wrapped up. You can see my conundrum.
I put it in the broiler and set the timer for ten minutes. After eight minutes, I smelled smoke. When I opened the broiler, my sandwich was on fire. Or, more accurately, the paper wrapped around the sandwich was on fire, bits of ashy paper sailed throughout the kitchen, I blew out the fire, swept the ashes from the stove, from the floor, and threw them away. Then I put my sandwich in the oven, paperless, and waited for it to warm, wondering what other stupidities I'd be up too, if given enough time alone.
Longer time at a lower temperature and you might have avoided the inferno! Did your sandwich have a nice smokey crust on it?
ReplyDeletethey sell potbellys at a grocery store..who knew??
ReplyDeleteit is very difficult to see stars from a basement...
upper floors or outside preferable!