Out of Sorts

I’m irritated with everyone and everything this morning.

Even my poor husband, who is about as nice a person as you’d ever meet, got on my nerves by not asking if I had a carpenter’s square after getting grouchy because he couldn’t find his. This annoyed the heck out of me because I interpreted his failing to do so as a reflection on my competence, thus ascribing to me the worst qualities of the string of spoiled, selfish, poor-little-rich girls he’s lived with in the past.

Yesterday, I tried and failed, not only once but twice, to fit so-called “universal” burner grids to the Weber.

I drove the truck too fast over a vicious speed bump and caused both of us to wake up with stiff necks.

Ron assured me that he’d be able to replace a rusting light fixture with one we bought yesterday at a yard sale, but he ran into some tool-related problems – again.

Fluffles continues to wear me out with his fussiness over food.

There’s more gardening to be done and I’M TIRED.

Except for the fact that Ron’s things are all over the basement, we are in excellent shape. We have lots of good food and a well-equipped kitchen to cook it in, two working vehicles, and pretty surroundings, including the addition of a nice bedroom lamp and two handsome gold pillow covers purchased for pennies at said yard sale.

In other words, I have no good reason to be so ill-tempered right now.