I was soooooo crabby. Let me back up my story a few steps.
We just got new windows, and My Husband did the finishing and staining of the trim. It was very stinky, so I holed up in The Knit Room. Then, since everything was packed and moved, he painted the living room. This required scaffolding to get to the tops of the walls as they are very tall (13'). Since he had the scaffolding and one of our light fixtures was broken, we got a new light. Since the light in the foyer and dining room match, we got two new lights. It-Shall-Be-Un-named Store did not have the larger chandelier in a box (only display), and we drove to West St. Paul to get this fixture. My Husband got the fixture installed and the globe light would not work. Aargh. We drove all the way to this Un-named Store, then we (me) had to drive back there to exchange it. By the time I re-arrived at the store, I was crabby and could not find anyone to help me. And, I was parked in a No Parking spot. There was a line at Customer Service. The lighting department was dim. More crabbiness. Finally, the man from lighting brought out the replacement fixture, carried it to and fro from my vehicle and I could go home.
Still crabby, I entered Starbucks drive-thru for a Gingerbread Latte for a well-deserved treat. I thought about how crabby I was and took aim. I paid for my drink and the young woman's coffee and scone in the drive-thru line behind me.
I smiled all the way through Un-named Store's turn-around in the parking lot, and all the way down Robert Street. Then, I noticed that I was hitting every green light.
Every green light ALL THE WAY HOME.
Someone is always watching.
Pee Ess: I have not told My Husband about this little act of uncrabbiness making, as he might see it as unfrugal. Don't mention it to him. I'll make up for it by buying generic light bulbs.