What started off as my daily wake-up slice of corn bread is now a full-blown obsession that boarders on addiction. Understand, i work in the bakery five days a week, but on those other two days I still manage to slip in, scan the counter, and devour any available samples left out for customers. When I pass the empty plate sheepishly toward the counter person and squish my face as if to say, "I'm sorry," it's all a ruse. What I'm really thinking is "more corn bread pieces, please!" later, when I unwrap a salty-sweet morsel, friends look on with envy and hope. It crosses my mind to offer them some, but I usually don't. After all, it's a very real possibility there won't be any left when I make my final pass by the bakery before bedtime.