Angry Spaghetti

  Something happened to day that made me very upset. And being the mature adult that I am, I harnessed my anger and did my best to keep calm and carry on. This was my stress ball.

  It used to be a baseball stress ball. Now it's 2 baseball stress balls. Retail therapy was the best way to fix things, and I absolutely used the excuse "I'm a girl, I'm upset, I need to go shopping." I hit the road with angry driving music and then hit the stores (not literally, I wasn't that upset). So I found a dress, a necklace, and a button up shirt for my husband all for under $25. Turns out I'm pretty decent bargain hunter when I'm upset.

  I came home and made dinner for my husband. He wanted spaghetti, so I went to work making dinner for the both of us. But it came out tasting weird. I told him there was a missing ingredient: love. It was replaced by a different emotion. My spaghetti tasted like anger. Even my husband admitted it tasted weird, but he ate it anyway.

  There was also a bag of microwaveable broccoli with cheese sauce to compliment the spaghetti. Well it didn't compliment the entree, it insulted the spaghetti. I suggested that he shouldn't eat that either. I think I hear the gentle rustle of Cinnamon Toast Crunch leaving its box. 

  I think I'll get a bowl and join him.

     - Jana