Crazy is as crazy does

AF *MUST* show up soon. This is not negotiable. Something or someone has taken over my body and I want them to kindly leave, please!!

I'm generally a happy-go-lucky kind of person, but yesterday I had a mood swing hit me that made me want to MURDER SOMEONE! Death and destruction! Violence and fires! RRRRRAAAAWWWWWRRRR! *RIPS SHIRT, BEATS CHEST*

Phew! I think that was either a flashback or some residual anger. I think I'm okay now.

Anyway, it started innocently enough...

I made us omelets for dinner and they turned out crappy (I had some Velveeta leftover in our fridge from a recipe for a party, so I threw it in and HOLY HELL IS THAT STUFF DISGUSTING! NEVER AGAIN!)

So I was grossed out by the taste and Dh took one bite and stopped dead in his tracks. I don't know if he was even chewing or breathing, but I was just waiting to hear what he'd say. Usually when I have a cooking mistake we laugh about it and instead he was so silent that it made me feel terribly judged and like he was questioning my sanity in what I put into it. Sure, that's okay for me to do but I just wanted a little, "Aww, honey! Thanks for the effort!" which I didn't get.

Well, that sent me over the edge.

Next thing you know, I'm angrily cooking up crepes (can one actually cook up a delicate french confection with anger? YES, I SAY! Indubitably!) and I totally burn mine, make his too thick, so by the time I got to make myself another he was sitting at the dining room table, just starting at me in the kitchen in disbelief. I seriously had to eat standing up in the kitchen with my back turned to him because I was afraid that if I made eye contact with him I was going to accidentally set him on fire and thus, be responsible for his untimely death. And who would care for the cats while I'm in jail and he's 6 feet under, pray tell?

To make me sound even more insane, I also feel compelled to share with you that while I was waiting for the crepes to cook in the pan, I seriously just wanted to start beating the stove with the spatula and then pick up the pan and start beating the stove with it as well. Until it was dented and bruised, like my precious brain was feeling. It was one of those moments that I just needed the house to myself and my anger and there was no way that I was going to get that.

So mood swings? Could ya let up a bit? I am *not* this person. Dh did nothing wrong. I was overwhelmed by hormones and was totally incapacitated by their strength.

WTF, I say! WTF?