I am sat in my kitchen looking at a ridiculous loaf of bread bought from the insanely priced middle class bakery down the road from me.
It is a middle class bakery because (unlike a good ol’ Gregs) it is only open when anyone hardworking enough to be remotely in with a chance of affording their bread is at work.
And it costs three times as much for half as much bread so anyone with half a brain (or twice as much sense) would walk on by.
So being the hard working, extremely intelligent human being that I am…
Why do I have a loaf on my kitchen table?
Because, holy shit, it makes me feel good.
It sits on my table delicately wrapped in bio-degradable tissue paper as organic flour dusts my soul in happiness.
I feel like inviting my friends round to admire it for everything it stands for.
Just like my brown middle class food waste bin and the totally pointless 45 piece food processor I bought from John Lewis in a moment of glory, I feel like a real person who has made it in life by owning one.
They don’t sell bread.
They sell a mirror to your soul.
What do you sell?
Have a great week!
The organic spelt bread of sales training