Have I been in one pissed off mood today. Sheesh.

I woke up miffed. By what, I have no idea.

Had plans to have breakfast and visit the Arboretum this morning with Momma, so I woke up early (usual weekday time of 4:30a instead of usual weekend time of 5) to make sure I had time to get my clothes washed before she came.

Well, the fancy new washer here at the apartments decided it didn’t want to wash the load of clothes that was in it, so when I went to put the two loads into the two dryes, I found I had to go back inside, fetch the detergent, move the unwashed load into the working washer, and start over again, meaning I’d just lost roughly 50 minutes.

The miffed became peeved.

Then I tried to clean pictures off the iPhone: it took 4 restarts of Aperture and 3 eject and reattachments of the iPhone to get the pictures imported, and then Aperture decided to crash while importing to the backup location.

The peeved became wild frustration.

Then I tried to give some money to a kickstarter campaign, but got distracted by Chrome’s failure to properly auto-complete, cleaned out the auto-complete settings, tried again, auto-complete failed again, tried again, again with the failing of the auto-complete, so I gave up on the whole thing (apologies, Kickstarter starter!).

The wild frustration became seething anger.

Then I went and fetched clothes out of the dryers, hung and folded, and found it was just 7. Great: plenty of time. Except I found a cheerful message from momma that she was on her way. This meant I had roughly 10 minutes to shave and shower.

The anger became fury.

So I ran, shaved and showered as quickly as I could, and came out to find 2 calls and another message from momma: a cheerful “I’m here,” with an obvious “and pissed that you’re not waiting on me” subtext.

The fury intensified.

So I went to call her back and just then the phone began ringing. I told her I was running a bit behind and would need 5 or 10 minutes to get my shoes on and comb my hair.

Thanks to the marvelous cell phone service that is AT&T, she gave her usual “I can’t hear you” reply, so I screamed into the phone “GIVE ME 5 OR 10 MINUTES” and hung up.

I took some deep breaths, put on my shoes, and started to walk to the bathroom to comb my hair when the phone started ringing again.

Fury. Fury. Fury.

I answered, screamed “I NEED 5 MINUTES!,” and pressed the hang-up button as forcefully as I could.

The room turned read and I could feel blood pounding in my temples.

Fury. Fury. Fury. Fury.

I tried to take some deep breaths, but found that I quite literally couldn’t, so I called Momma and suggested, as calmly as I could, that she should go have a nice breakfast and nice walk around the Arboretum, as I was in a foul mood and wouldn’t be any company.

Fury. Fury. Fury. Fury. Fury.

I went and combed my hair. I paced around the apartment. I felt like an asshole for screaming at my mother. I stomped around the apartment. I drove to the grocery and stomped through the aisles, stormed through the checkout, grabbed up my bags and charged back to the car. I came home.

Fury. Fury. Fury. Fury.

I forced myself to take a nap.

It didn’t help.

I listened to music, surfed the internet, swept the floors, worked on the Tokina review, and tried to calm down.

I didn’t, really.

I called up a buddy to see if he still wanted the intuos tablet I offered him a month ago. Went and met him and his wife for lunch and I was cheery and friendly throughout and it was really great to see them both and I definitely enjoyed the time I spent with them (and I probably owe Alicia a couple of bucks for my end of the lunch), but I really just wanted to smash something.

I came home and had another nap. I shot some macro junk that I’ll be deleting shortly. I went out into the courtyard and stared at the bricks in the entryway. They looked nice-ish, so I snapped a quick iPhone shot. I shot some more macro junk. I imported the macro junk and decided it was all junk. I stomped around the apartment. I looked at the brick pics on the phone and decided I liked the picture sideways, so I began the process of convincing Aperture to import from the phone again. I learned that the killall command in the Terminal works for any application, and used that to force Aperture to quit (twice) instead of using ‘Force Quit,’ which made restarting easier and eventually led to successful importing of today’s 365 pic.

Still: Fury. Fury. Fury. Fury.

Let’s hope some dinner and playing with cats and some netflix and a good night’s sleep helps. My shoulders and back are starting to ache from being tensed up all day.

iPhone4. ProCamera app. ISO80, 1/30th, f/2.8 (all handled by the OS). About 30 seconds of slider play in Aperture.

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  1. It was something in the water. I said the F word to Corinne because she couldn't figure out how to use the remote.