I started today on a bad note. Every week the local bakery reserve a large sliced dark sourdough loaf for me. It is the only bread I have found that I really really enjoy (other than the caramelised garlic bread, the olive bread, fruity breads or brioche – but I can’t use those as my everyday breakfast bread). When it comes to a normal dark loaf, there is only one loaf I have found that I enjoy and doesn’t make me feel ill.
Every week I go in and the have my loaf ready for me under the counter. This has happened for months. This week I asked if I could have two loaves, because I have some friends coming over to stay and everyone loves this bread when they taste it. They said “of course, we’ll have two loaves waiting for you”.
Well, this morning I went to collect my two loaves and there was no bread for me at all. The lovely lady who I normally see was not there, apparently she was on holiday. So they had put the loaves that are usually reserved for me onto the shelves and they had been sold already by the time I arrived.
I went into the kind of mini-meltdown that only divas are capable of. Awful! I don’t think I would have, if it wasn’t for the manager telling me that they do not reserve a loaf for me. She said they never reserve a loaf for me. I was baffled. I was quite calm, but I explained it was not my imagination that every Saturday for months, I have arrived and a loaf of bread with my name on the outside of the bag, is under the counter.
My bread, my lovely lovely bread. No bread this week. 😦 But worse still is the awareness that I threw a diva wobbly because of not having my bread. Pathetic! I do not like divas. And today I was one! I am heartily ashamed. But I am still sulking, because I have nothing to eat for breakfast tomorrow. At least I have some juice.