Judging by the concerned messages I've received from family members, setting a dress on fire is not a rational thing to do.
I guess I should clarify that I did not come unhinged after a small setback.
That little charred pile is actually the end result of several days and many hours of work down the tube (sleep deprivation may have also played a small role).
Now I'm kind of feeling like I've been caught with my pants down. Whoops, I showed the world a little too much crazy. I thought about deleting the post so other folks wouldn't stumble across my little lapse, but I think it should all be here: The Good, The Bad and The Crazy.
Speaking of which, I've tried to go back to the fabric store twice and I think I have a new psychosis to explain when I pursue therapy after this little episode.
Does anyone else suffer from FabricStoreophobia? The symptoms include breaking out into a sweat, inability to make a decision, sensitivity to the antics of small children and alternating between holding back hysterical giggles and holding back tears of self-pity.
(Note to self: next time you snap your bean, don't write a blog post about it. You're scaring people.)