Put up yer dukes

I had a major fight with my sewing machine today.

Things got ugly.

I'm so glad that Bruce still loves me when I get frustrated and curse at inanimate objects.  I'm pretty sure that if I were a cartoon, smoke would have been trailing out of my ears due to my frustration with that ridiculous machine, and Bruce was as calm as ever, just telling me over and over that he loved me (possibly to reassure himself that he does in moments like that?).

So the machine and I are in a fight.

No longer speaking to each other.

It never really liked saying much anyway.