Last night wasn’t so great.
He man was scheduled to get rid of our last sheep at 6:00. He had sold it to a neighbor who planned on butchering it himself.
I’ve been trying to cook healthy and had concocted a dish of a spaghetti sauce with zucchini, onions, and green peppers in it (rather than hamburger). This would be eaten of spaghetti squash (rather than carb intensive noodles). I’ve fixed this before and it is truly yummy and one of our favorite dishes.
Being the smart lady I am, I scheduled supper for 7:00, figuring an hour was more than enough time to sell a sheep.
7:00 came, no man. 7:30… no man. 8:00… no man. By now the supper is squishy mush. And I am pissed.
HE finally comes in a little after 8:00…. “Hun, are you busy? I need your help”. My blood pressure wasn’t doing so good at this point. “You need my WHAT! Where have you been! Supper is ruined. I am pissed!”
Apparently he had felt compelled to help butcher the sheep, drink a little whiskey with said neighbor, and then offer to get rid of the carcass for said neighbor. In the process the 4-wheeler had decided to die. On the other end of our property. MY help was needed to take the other 4-wheeler to tow the other one back to the barn.
By this point I was in true hissy fit mode. The coldness of my shoulder would equal the coldness of any vampire (can you tell I’ve been reading the vampire books? I’m on Eclipse right now). We got the 4-wheeler back to the barn, I stomped back into the house and retired to the downstairs. He wisely did not follow me.
Eventually I ate a can of ravioli, depriving myself of what could have been salvaged of the meal (why do I do these things to myself). When I saw that he hadn’t even bothered to fix the spaghetti squash (it is so damn easy – 5 or so minutes in the microwave), but had just eaten the sauce, I ramped up my hissy fit.
Let’s just say slammed doors, a bit of throwing of things, and a VERY long bath was involved. Oh and a little yelling thrown in for good measure. Not my proudest moment.
I envision that when I die and my children tearfully (I hope) eulogize me, they will do a lot of “remember when she…. kicked her shoe (oh yea, I did that last night too), slammed the door so hard the shelf fell off the wall, threw the glass, stomped out… the list is embarrasingly long….
Why do I do these things! It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I lose all control. HE was wrong and said he was sorry. I was wrong too. I over reacted. And I have yet to say I’m sorry. Will eat crow later on today.
Anyway, this is a side of me that fortunately doesn’t show up very often. I wish it never did.
Do you ever over react like I did? Breathe deep and stop and think… I wish I would have last night. But what is done is done. Next time I’m going to try to remove myself from the situation and think hard about what is important in my life. If I can make myself do that, I’ll bet my reaction will be much different! I’m a lucky lady and I’m sorry!
But he still owes me one big time. I wonder where we are going to for supper tonight.
Stay cool peeps and have a wonderful rest of the day. I know I’m going to.