(Comic courtesy www.nataliedee.com)

Here I stand over the stove with a bubbling concoction of milk, chocolate, vanilla extract and cinnamon, stirring away with a wooden spoon.   I’m making hot chocolate because it’s freezing  balls outside.  The damn chocolate, of course, is not properly dispersing in the hot milk.  Rage ensues.  “I NEED A FREAKING WHIIIIISK!!!!!!!!” suddenly starts spewing out of my mouth in a loud, high-pitched, full-out scream.  Yes, I know this is unreasonable and completely unnecessary.  But I just discovered, right when I needed it, that I DON’T EVEN OWN A WHISK.  Who the hell doesn’t own a whisk?

I turn to look at the TV.  “DO YOU SEE THIS FREAKING COMMERCIAL?” is the next banshee scream out of my mouth.

There, in all its glory, is a PYREX WHISK COMMERCIAL.  Since when are there commercials for things like whisks?  And right at my moment of fury?

The TV is taunting me.

And my boyfriend and dog officially think I’m crazy.

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