searing mad

If yesterday was a day for poultry and fries, today was the kind of day that called for a wooly mammoth and an ocean's worth of alcohol.

I could have seared some mammoth sirloins with the rage I felt today. Easily.

[breathe]

Anger isn't fun. It's draining and distracting and, worst of all, makes me lose my appetite. That's not something I care to lose.

And anyone who can make that happen ought to watch out. Forget that hell hath no fury business.

Ever try making nice with an appetite-depressed woman?