Auto-Ethnography: Toast #1

I made a piece of toast, which did not include the act of buttering it or eating it. Just the process of cooking a piece of toast.

I smell soap on my hands and burnt toast, it is strong and repugnant - penetrating deeply and almost stinging the nostrils. The toaster is smooth and industrial. It is very reflective. The toast bag is crinkly and sounds like it screeches when unrolled. The slices are thin and floppy. They are soft with bumps. They look pale with freckles and a tanned on the edge. It smells cool and flat. It tastes fresh, like the outdoors. It is cool to the touch. There are crumbs on the toaster handle which has grooves and is smooth. It is hard to push down and requires heaps of pressure by my two fingers. A satisfying click heralds the start of the cooking. There is heat coming from the top. It is warm like summer, there are red lights on the inside. The toaster is set to cook on setting 8. The air ripples above the toaster. The margarine is heavy -  it is new and very cold. It makes a flick as the lid comes off as the lip, while thin and plastic, is not sharp and slides off my thumb. It smells fake and looks too yellow. The peanut butter is light and has grooves on the lid. It tickles my hand as I remove the lid. A light grinding noise sounds as I take the lid off, like silk on silk. It takes 2.5 turns to remove. It smells intoxicating and warm. It is smooth and glides between my fingers. The toaster makes tiny tapping noises as it cooks. The toast looks golden. The toaster makes a pop noise and the toast is launched up. It is hot and crunches in your hand. It makes a grinding like noise when putting on the chopping board.