Fickle Pickle

I am very fickle. I am not a pickle. But I wanted a word that rhymed with fickle. I generally don't think of myself as a fickle individual (disagree if you want to), but last night I was definitely being an inconsistent little nincompoop.

In the space of about an hour, I went from being mildly irritated to hopping mad. That isn't too unnatural of a jump, but I didn't stop there. I next went to a state of feeling really bad about being mad, so much so that I was crying. After a few minutes of that, I started happily talking about baseball. (Did you know that the Detroit Tigers are the only American League team to have dropped three consecutive World Series? They did, between 1907-1909)

I am not an angry person. I am a very happy person. Just not post-operatively: then I am incredibly emotionally fragile. *sigh* I wish this would be over soon. One week down, five to go :-)

And really, how could you be mad at boys like these for long?