"Happiness is not a potato"

On the way home, I imagined making myself a sandwich for dinner. This would be the most magnificent, decadent sandwich ever created. I would use the finest of meats, seasoned and sliced to perfection. They would be juicy and tender and piled on generously. These meats would be balanced with the freshest of vegetables: crisp lettuce, bright red tomatoes, crunchy cucumbers, ripe olives, cool avocado, the perfect ration of onions. To enhance the flavor of my sandwich, these toppings would be accompanied by the most lavish of dressings. My secret dressing, that of which only I have ever tasted, would truly make my sandwich great. And to enclose this splendor, I would select grainy, substantial bread for both structural integrity and added nutrition.

When I arrived home I made my way to the kitchen, drooling over my soon-to-be sandwich. As I looked through my fridge, hoping to find all the necessary ingredients, I discovered that the only sandwich-making material I had was peanut butter and some raspberry jam. I didn't even have any bread. But, a sandwich is a sandwich, so I dug out an english muffin and loaded it up. As I took the first bite, I realized that I wouldn't want that over-the-top sandwich anyway. I didn't like cucumbers or olives, and I always end up picking the tomatoes off half way through. I was happy with my simple sandwich. The world needs a few PB&J's.