Never Sleep Next to a Baguette

Two days ago I bought a baguette. Half eaten, I kept in on the sofa next to my bed. While I was sleeping that night, I had images of baguette topped with cream cheese and canned peaches, baguette with lettuce, tomato, and mozzarella filling, buttered baguette eaten with creamy mushroom soup, baguette sandwich made with crab sticks, lettuce and salad cream, sliced baguette with soft cheese and smoked salmon. . . baguette, baguette, baguette.

I woke up halfway through my baguette filled dreams and took a bite off it (couldn’t resist, it smelled so good ) and was really tempted into heating up some soup, slather it with plenty of butter and have supper. I summoned up a good deal of will power and relocated the devil to my writing desk, which is on the opposite end of the room.

Baguette dream made real at breakfast the next day. Buttered baguette with cream of mushroom.

I found my new love.

Baguette.

Je t’aime.

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