Ramping it up a notch on the grump-0-meter~ The dryer has pooped out. So on a day when it is 4 degrees out (and don't point out that's considered 'balmy' in Alaska, Bill. It wouldn't make matters better...) someone does not have dry underwear.
Making it worse, Tim went down to check on this tragedy. "NO DRY UNDERWEAR!" and returned clutching a tee shirt and dry underwear. I gave him a look. He said, "My clothes were dry." (Like Bill pointing out that 4 is balmy in Alaska ~ and I can assure you that our bearded buddy is stubbornly sitting in front of his computer in Alaska, and thinking this because he can ~ Tim's cheerful 'I got dry underwear!' was no more comforting than Bill's '7 degrees?!!!! By golly, let me get out the surf board!!!! Cowabunga!) Tim had dry underwear because I washed that load a couple days ago (before the dryer decided to poop out), and just to add fuel to the fires of injustice, allow me to point out that he's got about three times the amount of underwear that I do! I gave him a look. Had I KNOWN the dryer was going to poop out, I could have hung the clothes in the basement, and had dry underwear. But, noooo. I went to bed after turning on the dryer and slept the sleep of the innocent. Well. Actually I slept the sleep of the too tired to stay up another minute, but it's kind of the same don't you think?
*walks off complaining to self*