'Describe and explain how water moves through the trunk of a tree to the leaves'

Actually, I'd rather not. I don't care how water moves through the trunk of a tree to the leaves. In fact, I can't think of many things I care less about. I care more about what my boss ate for breakfast this morning. But then I do have a passion for breakfast cereals, so this is probably not such a good example to illustrate how little the movement of water through the trunk of a tree to its leaves interests me.

There is a reason why I have a passion for breakfast cereals. In my house, I am the sole consumer of these precious foodstuffs. My dad just has coffee, and I think at the moment my mum has these weird little lemon and raisin pancakes from Waitrose that were on special offer about 6 months ago, and have been languishing in the freezer until now, when apparently the time is right for them to be eaten. Does the taste of Waitrose weird little lemon and raisin pancakes increase with time spent in the freezer? I doubt it.

Anyway, as the only cerealphile in the house, I am not allowed to have many boxes open at a time as they take up vital cupboard space that could be used for, say, unfrozen Waitrose weird little lemon and raisin pancakes. And by not many boxes, I mean no more than one. One solitary box of cereal, to eat every single day until it is empty, when another identical box of cereal will appear.

IT DRIVES ME INSANE.

It's not that I don't like the cereal I get- I chose it, and Special K is tasty, especially with a chopped banana (preferably just a little unripe). And it needn't even be Special K- if I wrote something else down on the shopping list, I would get that something else. But that's not the point. I crave variation in my morning diet. I long to wake up in the morning with a little thrill, not yet knowing what I'll eat for breakfast that day. I dream of opening the kitchen cupboard to reveal a dazzling selection of breakfast cereals, surprising (perhaps even a little vulgar) in their variety and scope. I shiver with delight to imagine a few moments spent thinking, 'Should I have Special K today? Or Coco Pops? Cinnamon Grahams? MAYBE even- God willing- ALL THREE TOGETHER!!'

But no. That pleasure is denied me. Each morning I must munch morosely through another bowl of what I had yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and so on and so forth until my soul withers away into nothing and I am left a bitter empty husk of a human being.

:(

When I grow up I am going to have one of every single cereal I like in the kitchen cupboard at once and have a different one every morning and it will be GOOD and my soul will be HEALED. And if this means I cannot afford to buy other foods, or clothes, or furniture, then so be it.