Make it stop

I’m working late, and when I’m working late,  I’m cranky, and when I’m cranky, there’s no room in my head for anything but what’s making me cranky, and I don’t want to talk about work.

I might be cranky about describing myself as cranky – I am NOT a toddler.

(I might be acting like a toddler.)

If I throw a tantrum, maybe I can stop working.

No, that’s not how this works.  Big deadline tomorrow, and I’m stuck waiting for four other people to do their thing, one at a time, before I can do MY thing, and this is the fifth time we’ve gone through this exercise today.  It’s 8 o’clock.  I want to be done.

Oooh, we have butterscotch pudding.

I AM a toddler.