Overreacting

I'm going to calmly work on this second, smaller incarnation of the Aphrodite Shawl. It will be a nice therapeutic way to end this day which, at one point, had me texting this to my husband:

I quit this whole entire day

Not wanting to scare him, I added :( because nothing says "I'm having a bad day, but don't worry, I'm not suicidally depressed" better than a sad face emoticon.

He called me back and had to hear a tale about my misadventures involving a vacuum cleaner, a plastic bag, a broken hair dryer, cigarettes and how I got embarrassed into making an appointment for a $50 haircut.

He made it all better, but not before adding, "I guess we're not having dinner tonight." Because apparently my bad moods take the form of rebelling against cooking more frequently than I had realized.

But since I do have a husband who can brighten my day so well, and since I was feeling guilty about letting really dumb things get to me when there are so many people in the world who have actual important problems, I started to cook dinner and called my sister.

In light of what I described as an afternoon of ineptitude and bad luck, she thought I should just order takeout, but I told her that pastafazool was an easy dish. The only thing that could go wrong would be if the pot boiled over.

Five minutes later, it did.

So it is crocheting rather than knitting tonight. Pointy needles may not be safe.