This what happens in the 30mins between jobs...

Jun 02, 2008

It is late, my back is aching and my head is tired, but I am not done with what I have to do. There is so much left. I try to work but nothing, and I mean nothing will allow my fingers to move. All of the sudden the worst possible thing that could happen did; my stomach growled.

If it wasn't one thing it is the other. Groaning I get up out of the devil's backless chair that my parents just won't throw away (probably because I use it), and head to the dark side of the house. The side that has that constant hum of the refrigerator, like a sleeping creature readying for the day it finally gobbles up an unexpecting midnight snacker.

As I near the humming beast I wonder what it is I am looking to feed the beast within. The moment of truth arrives when I open the door and the light blinds through the dark house. The answer jumps out as I see the perfect ingredients; homemade strawberry sauce, peanut butter, and English muffins.

I grab the amazing three and run out of the door before the humming stops and the creature wakes up. In evading the refrigerator though I end up walking right into my next obstacle: the toaster.

The toaster by nature is a very gentle creature, its only problem is that is scares easily and it tends to bite unexpectedly. Now, if I wasn't having the perfect sandwich and was making regular toast rather then English muffin toast I would not have any worries of scaring this magnificent creature, but alas I have to go for the epic mixture, I had to go big (or rather small.)

I took my English muffin, fork separable of course, and made two perfect halves to go into the toaster. The toaster took my offering generously and lit its beautiful flame (aka wires) to make a warm comforting glow. I sat there in a daze as the silence of anticipation filled the room.

Suddenly, I felt the tension reach its peak as the toaster regurgitated the muffin; instinct took hold of me as I went to grab the muffin out of the air. Unfortunately only one half of my precious muffin went airborne. I had to act fast. If either muffin cooled before the sandwich was put together then the perfection would be ruined. Quickly I tipped the toaster, hoping its burning bite wouldn't get me as the muffin fell out into my hand.

Success! The two halves lay in my hands as I went to the table and put them on a napkin. Whilst I open the jars of peanut butter and strawberry sauce I notice that a piece of the puzzle is missing. I try to figure out what it is and it hits me, how on Earth do I plan on putting the sauce and butter on the muffin without a knife. I turn to the drawer, open it and to my horror the knives are all gone. What kind of monstrosity would take all of the knives?

In the distance a small green light casts a steady glow and my inquiry is relieved. The dishwasher was finished, but how long ago. Could everything in there still be scorching hot, or is there any chance that everything is cooled and dry. I walk the long walk (three steps) filled with concern. As I open the door steam exits. No! Everything is going to be hot and wet, but if I hesitate then the muffins will cool. I take my chances and grab and newly cleaned butter knife. Only for an instant does it burn my fingers before my endorphins kick in.

Again I stand above the pieces of the sandwich. With delicate, quick proficiency I put all the ingredients together. The peanut butter melting on the heated muffin half and the strawberry sauce soaking into the other, putting them together was poetry in itself. As I brought the sandwich to my mouth everything went in slow motion and silenced.

I took the first bite; Angels sang and praised the greatness of the sandwich. I finished the sandwich enjoying every bite.

Maybe it was because of the lack of sleep, maybe it was because of the stress, maybe it was just because, but I swear that was the best sandwich I have ever eaten.

-End

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