Dammit

My roommate threw out my second piece of fudge. I still had two half-pound bricks of fudge from when I worked Geauga Lake this summer, and she threw the second piece away yesterday, without telling me. Of course that' trash is gone now, so I can't even try to recover it.

That was the really good piece, too. Cherry vanilla. The piece I intentionally didn't eat first because I wanted to save it for last. And now it's gone, because my roommate carries the idea that amusement park fudge goes bad after a month in the fridge.

I worked the fudge shop multiple times this summer. There were pieces that had been sitting out in the open air for weeks in the middle of summer and we were still selling them. And I have never heard one complaint, or one instance of someone getting food poisoning from the fudge. This fudge was from pretty much the last batch made before I left, and have been in the fridge for most of that time. That fudge was perfectly fine. She threw a perfectly fine half-pound piece of my fudge in the trash because she felt it had been in there "long enough."

Normally I wouldn't talk about problems I'm having with people "behind their back" like this, as it were, because I hate it when people talk to me about other people. Normally, too, I wouldn't get this worked up over something so seemingly trivial. But, dammit, this is about the tenth thing that's gone wrong for me in the past few days, and I'm getting real tired of not letting it get to me.