Today’s perfect moment was the third last bite of my sandwich. It was a roasted turkey with sweet with heat mustard, a dab of mayo, some cheese, onions, tomatoes and romaine lettuce on a ciabatta bun. Before you ask, yes, I made it myself.
I almost always have a sandwich for lunch. I take it pretty seriously, but that’s because I really do believe you get out of something what you put into it. And really, a sandwich doesn’t require back breaking effort. It merely means just adding a little bit of effort.
Why the third bite? It wasn’t the last bite. The last bite was filled with sadness. That was the last bite. There was no more. It certainly wasn’t the second last bite. That bite was filled with apprehension at the meal being over. The third last bite was firmly away from the negative influence of the last two bites but far enough into the sandwich that hunger was no longer the driving force. The third last bite was the one the was strictly for pleasure, and it was very pleasing.