At work today:
I opened the refrigerator door and looked at my food space and noticed my half loaf of Brownberry Country Oatmeal bread was gone.
What?!? I didn’t eat half a loaf since lunch YESTERDAY. It was just here on top of my ham! Between the pears and the wall! Did someone move it?? (scanned kitchen counters and refrigerator drawers) Eat it?? I’ll check the trash and see if the bag is there. Ick.
I could feel my heart rate increasing. Upon moving some K-cups and paper towels I noticed that sure enough the bag for my bread was in the trash. And twist-tied within was my half loaf.
What?!?!?! Why in the world would someone throw away someone else’s bread?? What kind of colossal jerk face would do that?!?!
I pulled out the bread and rinsed off the outside bag. Heart pounding in my ears, OCD flipping out that MY FOOD WAS IN THE TRASH, it’s a good thing I can’t turn into the Incredible Hulk or I would have been standing in tattered slacks and heels in the office kitchen. Nearly in angry tears I took a breath and dried the bag off. Then I couldn’t handle it anymore and pulled out the inner bag – thank you Brownberry for wrapping your bread in two bags, my OCD was soothed a bit.
I walked into the nearest attorney’s office, “Knock, knock. I don’t know why you might have, but did you by chance throw away the bread from the first shelf in the refrigerator?” I said sweetly, well as sweetly as a person can when all you want to do is start screaming down the hall about misogynistic jerks and disrespect of other people’s property.
He looked at me baffled, “No. Why would that happen? Has it gone bad?”
“No, it’s not blue, green or even stale. I was just checking. Thanks.” I moved on to the next attorney’s office and repeated my question.
“OH! I’m sorry, I thought that was mine. I brought a loaf like that a few weeks ago and I thought it was that one and threw it out.” Staring at the half loaf under my arm and the still damp, empty bread bag and twist tie in my other hand. “I’ll buy you a new loaf. I’m sorry.”
“Nope, you threw your bread away with the ends still in it a week or so ago. Don’t worry about buying me more, it comes in two bags so it’s okay. Thanks.” Then I walked back into the first guy’s office and filled him in on the situation, not that he was nearly incensed as I was, but he was curious as to why someone would throw away someone else’s bread.
In hindsight, I had to chuckle at my anger over a bread issue. Perhaps my hormones are a little out of whack.