I don't know.
Jan. 22nd, 2005 12:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7I don't know why I'm so angry.
I don't know why the fact that yet again, my cast iron frying pan is rusty is enough to make me shriek in anger. It happens all the time, when someone doesn't understand that water cannot be left in contact with cast iron. It scrubs off, and then the finish can be renewed by using the pan. So it's not that bad.
I don't really know why.
The kitchen isn't that dirty. The squalor of the house is certainly as much my fault as anyone else's. I imagine my frustration at being unable to keep a house to the most basic of human standards of decency is a factor in my short temper, but I don't know really where it comes from. At least for the most part there's no rotting food anywhere but firmly tucked inside the closed garbage can.
But I really don't know. I was in an all right mood. Then, suddenly, I wasn't. I seem to have, in the ensuing tantrum, somehow hit myself in the face, because it stings.
My hands are red and slightly swollen, and not from doing dishes, because I didn't. What, did I wave them around too much? Because that happens...
No, I am not feeling well. And I am sorry to Dave, although I am unsure what happened.
He is angrily making lunch, which is good. Maybe my blood sugar is low or something.
I don't know why the fact that yet again, my cast iron frying pan is rusty is enough to make me shriek in anger. It happens all the time, when someone doesn't understand that water cannot be left in contact with cast iron. It scrubs off, and then the finish can be renewed by using the pan. So it's not that bad.
I don't really know why.
The kitchen isn't that dirty. The squalor of the house is certainly as much my fault as anyone else's. I imagine my frustration at being unable to keep a house to the most basic of human standards of decency is a factor in my short temper, but I don't know really where it comes from. At least for the most part there's no rotting food anywhere but firmly tucked inside the closed garbage can.
But I really don't know. I was in an all right mood. Then, suddenly, I wasn't. I seem to have, in the ensuing tantrum, somehow hit myself in the face, because it stings.
My hands are red and slightly swollen, and not from doing dishes, because I didn't. What, did I wave them around too much? Because that happens...
No, I am not feeling well. And I am sorry to Dave, although I am unsure what happened.
He is angrily making lunch, which is good. Maybe my blood sugar is low or something.
