Panty line shows, got a run in my hose...

No, my panty line doesn't show, but I do have a run in my tights today. This would be a direct result of my total melt down at 7:26 this morning - yes, about 10 minutes AFTER I should have been on my way to work. Instead, I was screaming bloody murder at my husband and throwing clothes around, possibly giving Jake and Lucy premature gray doggie hairs and causing Chad to literally pick up our bed (he was angry) for me to have a look to make sure that my black turtleneck didn't decide to hang out with my wrapping paper container.
Yeah, sounds like the perfect morning for a woman trying to live her life in a Godly manner and respect her husband. All that went out the window when I came to the belief that a burglar came into our home last night to steal my $20 Target sweater. Either that or I was losing my mind.
I purchased (for $20 of course) a very cute pleated wool skirt from Ann Taylor yesterday with the thought of "Hey! I can buy this and wear it with my black turtleneck that I didn't wear today!" I had the tights, I had the shoes, I felt that I was set for Thursday's long work day and afterwards going out to have an adult beverage with my work friends. I came home, put the skirt on top of the dog cage (Why yes, there is a large dog cage in our bedroom. No it does not add the romantic ambience I wanted) and noticed that Chad had put the two sweaters left previously on the dog cage on the bed so Lucy wouldn't eat them. Obviously, these are two people who don't like to fold up clothing and put it in their respective places. We'd rather put it on a metal cage. So I moved the sweaters from the bed and put them on the dresser (not in the dresser, mind you, ON TOP). I felt completely prepared to be smartly dressed and on time Thursday morning.
Obviously that did not happen. What DID happen was that I literally began to cry because I couldn't find the sweater and felt like the world was out to get me and my fashionable self. Chad thought I was nuts, I said some curse words, and left in a huff, wearing a perfectly acceptable sweater, but not in the color or style that I originally wanted.
I got to work and there was a large run in my hose. Lovely. Just another day in the life.
P.S. I apologized profusely to my husband. There was no excusing my behavior, but just chalk it up to hormones.