­I reached over for the roll of paper towels, unravelling it once my hand met its coarse surface and tearing off two separate sheets.   I placed them on the counter in front of me, before looking around for the loaf of bread that I bought the day before.   Of course, I looked in the usual bread spot first, but it wasn’t there.   Normally I was a creature of painfully strict habit, but every once in a while, usually if I was in some sort of rush, I would misplace something I normally wouldn’t. I walk over to the fridge, opening it up to find my prize inside; the ingredients I needed were all newly bought and were contained within a grey grocery bag.   I removed it from the fridge, shutting it with a swift hook of my leg behind me.   Back at the counter, I removed the three contents of the bag, placing them above the sheets of paper towel; a fresh loaf of white bread, a jar of light peanut butter and a smaller jar of strawberry jam. Opening the plastic bag that held the b