Being that this is my first attempt in the grand world of blogging, I will start out by saying that this first posting will not be very long, nor will it be very interesting. I am lying on my bed typing these words on my phone because I am too cheap to fork over the money for real internet access. It is 11 o’ clock in the morning and I have been off work for the past four hours.
I bake bread for the hungry masses.
And now that the holiday season is upon us, the people are demanding more bread and I have been forced to work all night to keep up with said demand. During this time of year, I usually bake around ten thousand (I exaggerate, not) individual dinner rolls over the course of two nonstop nights of hell before the altar of a rotating rack oven. This year is no different.
The people must be fed and the people must be fed well with Thanksgiving only two days away. And I, the baker, must be the one to feed them. The story has been the same ever since the first humanoid sowed the first kernels of wheat and liberated us from our need to kill our food, looking it in the eyes as its life slowly perishes that we may carry on to kill again.
The people want bread.
The baker needs only to grind the wheat to feed the masses. And that is what I do. There is only the sowing and the growing. The reaping and the threshing. The milling and the mixing. The kneading and the proofing. The firing and the feeding frenzy. I feed the masses and no sentient creature is killed in the process.
Mine is a peaceful profession.
And this is the first posting in the grand world of blogging by a man whose profession is a peaceful one.