High emotions

My emotions were running extremely high yesterday. I don't know why I couldn't just find a happy medium--I was either fuming mad, or holding back tears, or overjoyed. I just kept swinging from one extreme emotion to the next.
It started when I got home. I walked in the door at about four o'clock--an early time for me. I had just gotten an A on a big presentation and paper and finally finished my paperwork for camp. I walked in and my wonderful husband was sitting on the couch watching the travel channel. I'm not a huge "watch-tv-when-you-get-home-to-relax" kind of person, but he occasionally is. And I'm glad he decided to watch the travel channel--I like travel, and I don't mind hearing all about Oslo, or Samarkand as I do dishes or fold laundry in the other room. And I was happy. Very happy. I just sat on the couch next to Daniel for a bit and smiled. I couldn't think of anything else to do; I was that happy.
But later on we went to his parents house to get my life jacket so I could use it when I go up to Camp Tracy for canoe training (it's mostly just for the newbies...) But when we got to looking through all of the stuff I have stored there we couldn't find the box labeled "TAKE TO JACKSON." We searched for a really long time, and I even opened a box that I was pretty sure just had jackets and such for winter. (Guess what: I was right.) We finally had to give up, simply because we didn't have anywhere else to look. We both double checked my truck, just to make sure I hadn't stashed it behind the seat, or wedged between the spare and the wheel well. It wasn't there. At that point, I was mad. I was furious that I had misplaced something. I'm kind of a control freak, and not knowing where my own belongings are just irritated me to the core.
Then, as we were driving home Daniel was so nice about putting good music on that he knows I like. He started with Mika, then quickly realized I was too mad to sing along so he played Wicked instead. He thought for sure I couldn't resist a little Defying Gravity. He even said, "Emile, relax. Sing along; it'll make you feel better." I told him I didn't want to...I wanted to think about where else my stuff could be. I think he caught the clue when I huffed and pounded the steering wheel as I drove. He kind of shut up after that.
I feel really bad now about being rude to him. It isn't his fault my stuff is missing. I don't think it's anyone's fault--but I was mad and kind of took it out on him. I wish I hadn't been so frustrated.
When we got home I proceeded to search through a few more places I thought I might have put it. I stormed through the house in a huff until I had exhausted all possible hiding places for that ridiculous pfd. And to no avail. Finally, Daniel helped me pick up the mess I had made and mentioned under his breath, "You're no fun when you're mad." Then he quietly left me sitting on the bed and went to finish his book.
I felt terrible. I sat down to work on my activity budget presentation and was barely able to concentrate long enough to finish it. When I was done I went over and sat down next to Daniel and apologized.
I'm a horrible apologizer. I never sound sincere, even when I am. I told him how sorry I was for storming around and spreading my bad spirits, and he accepted my apology but I'm afraid he thought I was just making the motions. I am a horrible apologizer.
That's when I just wanted to cry. I was so frustrated with myself. The whole day I just switched from one extreme emotion to the next, and I never stopped to think about how it was affecting others.
I'm working on controlling myself. I'm working on it.