On being a raging, psychotic lunatic

I'm generally quite a nice person, I think, but today, woah boy, I was the meanest, most awful person in the whole world. I have absolutely NO idea what happened, one minute I was laughing and joking and casually making quiche pastry and the NEXT... I was running 30 minutes late for lunch, I realised the quiche needed 40 minutes in the oven and not 20, that the rice for my brown rice salad would take 35-40 minutes and not 15, that I didn't have enough onions for my red onion tart, I was racing around the galley, heart racing, head spinning, sweating, I got into such a rage I literally almost passed out and then decided a viable alternative was to throw things, I was shouting at the deckhand (who made a very ill-timed remark about me being too messy when I cook), that's when I grabbed the stupid pastry for the red onion tart that completely flopped and flung it right out the galley window (!!) burning my hands and narrowly missing poor Franco's head, next thing the tears were welling up, and I did it, I cried and said in the most pathetic shaky voice, "I just want to get off the boat pleeease I don't think I can do this anymore". Can you handle that psychopath? Where does she get off? Anyways, I stopped being so pathetic, put some more pastry in for the tart, went and faced the guests like a man, told them I had screwed up and I just needed another 15 minutes, made a big joke of it and all was fine. And then I had to apologize to the deckhand for being so mean: "err, I'm really sorry for shouting at you, and for throwing a dish cloth at you, and for almost hitting you in the head with hot pastry, umm, thanks for helping me I'm SORRRY do you want some nice cheese?". His response: "yeah, slave, better you ARE sorry, yes I take some cheese, do you want some M&Ms?". This is why I love guys, if I had hurled such abuse at a girl, the way I did poor Franco, man, I would have gotten silent treatment and awkward vibes for at least a week, with guys, you say sorry, you admit to being a raging psychotic WOMAN, you give them food, it's all good. Six more days and then it's swimming, tanning, reading, walking and relaxing on the beaches of Sardinia, I can do this. Oh, and something I've learnt from today's little episode, food can FEEL stress, there was absolutely NO reason that the puff pastry shouldn't have gone poofy, it didn't like that I was being shouty and mean, so it thought, eff you, meanie, I'm not gonna rise, that'll teach you. When you're cooking, the worst thing you can do is panic, it allll just starts snowballing when you do, you burn stuff, you drop stuff on the floor, you forget things on the stove, you make a mess, it just turns into one big cluster ffffuck. There we go, top tip for the day, sorry about the swearing, bad Cary has not QUITE left the building yet.