For months now I've been staring gloomily at the biscuit shelves in the local supermarket, unable to fathom why they no longer sell plain hobnobs, my favourite biscuits. And then trudging home rather morosely clutching a packet of some inferior brand to eat with a cup of tea.
There seemed to be no possible reason why these biscuits had disappeared from the supermarket. The finest minds were baffled. It just didn't make sense. Sources informed me they were still available in other locations but they had completely vanished from my locality. The shelves were bulging with chocolate hobnobs and all other types of cookies but there was just no sign of my preferred brand.
And then, yesterday, I wandered round into the next aisle and there they were! The supermarket had moved all the plain biscuits round the corner. I hadn't realised this. I've been staring at the wrong shelf for months.
Naturally, I was outraged. I was tempted to storm up to the customer desk and give them a piece of my mind for their frankly duplicitous behaviour. But I do have to be careful. Being agoraphobic, this supermarket is the only one within range, so I can't really afford to be thrown out of the place. Which did come close to happening on one occasion, during the great potato mis-pricing scandal of 2004.
So I controlled my desire to abuse the staff, and instead loaded up my basket with hobnobs. All in all, I felt happier as I wandered home. It was treacherous of the supermarket to move these biscuits - they should know I can't cope with this sort of thing - but on the other hand, normal service at my house has now been restored. I am now full of tea and biscuits. Possibly my writing will go better now. My sequel to Lonely Werewolf Girl has been coming along rather slowly, but this might have been because of an inadequate food supply.