I am a Heelist

There.  I said it.  I am a Heelist. This morning I went to the cabinet to get a slice of white bread for my breakfast.  It was a new loaf, and like all new loaves, it had a damned brown heel piece right there in my way.  I became irrationally angry at the sight of the heel. Never mind that I was going to toast my bread, and the taste would be the same.  Never mind that a heel is still part of the loaf - just looks a little different than the majority of the loaf.

Whitebread

Instead of eating the heel and getting on with my life, I huffed and pushed it aside so I could get to the more desirable next piece. I know that I will be irritated all the way through the loaf, every time I go to get more bread.  Just the sight of a heel irritates me.

Oh, and what happens at the end of the loaf?  That's right - there's another heel right there, just waiting.  And then what?  Two heels together.  Where does it end? An entire loaf of bread consisting of only heels????