Like London

I'm a little foggy in the brain this week.

There's a baggy with a hamburger bun in it on my desk, a discarded element of my lunch. Every time I catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, a small part of my brain yells "SUGAR COOKIE!" and my heart leaps with joy, even though the rest of my brain knows that it's actually just a bland, squishy hunk of white bread.

This has happened no fewer than six times this afternoon.