This week I had three separate frets.  By the third fret, Loved-One got a bit anxious.

“You’re always so calm,” he said.  “It’s hard for me to see you agitated.  I’m afraid you might lose it.”

Mind you, [tweetthis]I just clamped my jaw tight and began swift and furious paper shuffling.[/tweetthis].

In one instant, I made cell-phone calls in quick succession.  No throwing or shouting or swearing or stamping, or hitting of animate or inanimate objects.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Loved-One suggested.

I really wanted