A Story About a Bagel from Which You Can Draw Your Own Moral

The other day, I burnt my morning bagel.

When I moved into my apartment a couple of months ago, I brought along this pretty janky toaster. It’s old school. Back then, when I had just moved in, I burnt things regularly. There was a learning curve. I had to learn the proper settings and techniques to make my bagels, Pop-tarts and English muffins the perfect golden brown.

Back then, I didn’t mind burning things so much. It meant that I was learning. I was getting better at the whole toasting business. I was on my way to a post-burnt society.

The other day, I burnt my morning bagel.

I was devastated. This burnt bagel served no purpose! I knew the mistake I had made. I couldn’t really learn from it. It was a lesson I had already learned. My biggest regret was not taking a picture of it before I threw it away so I could post it here.

I begrudgingly put another bagel in the toaster. And I watched over it diligently, not wanting to make the same useless mistake twice.

The other day, I made the most perfect bagel ever.

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