Revenge of the frozen loaf of bread.

In college, my good friend Diane showed me that by putting bread in the freezer, it would stay edible and prevent any mold from growing. I really appreciated this tip and have employed it since. Generally, I eat alot of bread so I just keep it in the fridge instead of the freezer as I eat it fast enough to prevent mold from popping up - regardless of temperature.

However, in my new place we have quite a small fridge which is being shared by four people, so there is no room for my bread - except in the freezer. Considering that it's warmer in Sydney than say, New York, most of the year, I was willing to accept the freezer. Until this morning.

At 7:02 a.m. this morning, I took my frozen loaf of bread out of the freezer. I was aspiring to make toast...a lofty goal, I know. Well, what happened next can only be described as hell fire pain. In an attempt to pry the bread from it's communal loaf, I came upon a slice that would not budge. It wouldn't come apart. Instead of giving up, I tried prying the bread slices apart with my finger nails. And that fucking piece of bread almost ripped my thumb nail off. After swearing and calling that bread loaf's mother a "yeasty bitch," I went farther into the loaf to retrieve a slice that would, in fact, seperate from the loaf at large.

The lesson I learned is this: Bread can be a real bastard when it wants to be, especially early in the morning. I've also learned that I must have borderline obsessive compulsive disorder, as I can't stop thinking about the fact that I ate the bread slices out of order. I have ALWAYS worked from the top of the loaf to the bottom (based on the assumption it's in a bag), but this morning everything was thrown out of whack and I'm now eating from two different areas in the loaf. Damn you bread! I will defeat you! Victory has not been declared!