I have no idea what is wrong with me...

Lately and by lately I mean since monday night there has been something seriously wrong with me. There are small things that have been happening that are normally minor annoyances, not so much these past two days. These things have been devestating to me. Monday night I was practically in a rage. There is nothing that should make me act like this. I am not PMSing and I am not currently on my period, in fact this didnt start until my period was ending. I don't even have that as an excuse. I'm not pregnant and that I know for sure unless Im going to be the second woman in history to experience immaculate conception. I was not terribly stressed out about anything. I am just flying off the handle for no good reason. It all started Monday night as I began to clean my home. I knew it hadn't been done in a while and I knew that it was nopt going to just be a pick up and go kind of thing. I had myself armed with windex, pledge, numerous rags, and a vacuum. I started off my mission in the kitchen. My husband does not clean up after himself by any definition of the meaning. I think that at one point I asked him to start putting his dirty dishes into the dish washer or at the very least bring them from the living room into the kitchen. For the most part they make it to the kitchen sink now, not what I orginally asked for but better than nothing. This being the case I expected a sink full of dishes so that was not what set me off. The one other thing that I ask my husband to do to help me in our home is to take the garbage out. That means not only the huge back we pull out of the garbage can twice a week but also the things we recycle. The bags go out without too much cajoling on my end. The stuff we supposedly recycle is another matter all together and that, my friends, is what started off the rage! Counters were cleaned, dishes were done and put away and my next mission was the floor. I stared at the rather full garbage can and the random cans, bottles, and pizza boxes piled up agianst my wall and debated with myself: "Should I just clean around it? Should I give in like I do evry other time and just take it out? Should I text angry texts to Mark and tell him that I am going on strike?" All of these thoughts ran through my head. I decided that once again i will take the higher road and do it myself. I was annoyed at this point because all of that could have been avoided if what I asked for was taken care of. Lets just say that after struggling got get the recycled crap all into a trash bag without ripping the entire thing open my annoyance was at a bit of higher level. Then I turned to the garbage can. Easy Peesy Lemon Squeezy??? NOT SO MUCH! The bag did not want to come out of the grabage can and as I was yanking the bag over and over again it started to rip. The convenient red handles were literally ripping through the freaking bag. Im huffing and puffing and red faced by now and hopping mad. Finally the bag comes out and it has quite a few holes and tears along the top of the bag. I set it on the floor so that I can wipe out the grabage can and put a new bag in. I may have actually benn calming down when I finally grabbed the two bags of garbage( remember the struggle with recycled, or not recycled in this case, bag) and head out the door. Thats when I notice that something liquid and light brown has leaked out of one of the bags and is all over my kitchen floor and it smells rotten. That feeling of calm disappeared so fast that to this day I do not know if it was ever really there or if I just imagined it. Im not sure what excatly I yelled out at the bag but Im pretty sure that I cannot repeat it on here or ever again. I swear there were tears in my eyes at this point. I managed to get down the apartment stairs without tripping or getting the foul smelling, leaking liquid all over me. I walked to the other end of the parking lot before I realized that my pant legs were dragging through the wet parking lot the entire time. Now they were hanging low and also were dragged through the nasty building that the garbage cans are in. I toss both bags into the nearest trash can whether it was for recycling or not and sprint back to my home. I roll up my pant legs and go to town on the kitchen floor. I am in no way clam but I am also trying to tell myself that this is not serious and it is not my husband's fault. I should not lash out irrationally at him and I should just get over it because honestly this is my life. I go through this every time I clean my home. I take a good 3 hours out of my day when I want to clean. This night was different, this night it enraged me. My rage may have helped spurr me forward and my living room was spotless and the couches were all vacuumed and pillows fluffed. I had just started on the bedroom when my poor unsuspecting husband walked in. I thought that I was going to be ok. I was still pissy but i figured I could be pissy and not direct it at him and maybe still ahve a decent night. Oh how wrong I was. He came in complaining about how sore he was while I sat sweaty on the floor folding up my clothes. Then he flings himself onto the nice clean bed that I had just made up and I bit my tongue. I tired to tell him that I was exhausted and sore as well and he laughed me off. I told him that I felt like cleaning up the house had been a work out and he just laughed at me. The blood began to boil. So I started with the snapping: "yeah well i had alot to do because Im the only one that does it"! and "I work a full time job too and then have a home to take care of" and "You can't even handle the one thng that I ask you to do...garbage"! He managed all of this pretty well. I tried to calm down so I weakly throw out there..." can you just go into your closet and get out what needs to be cleaned tonight" His reply "everything in there needs to be cleaned" I say "can you separate it into piles of whites and colors"? he says "sure". Then I notice that I have no empty baskets because the last time I did the laundry he left all of his clothes in them and they were still sitting there. I then kindly tell him I will separate the clothes if he can put his clothes away. He agrees and I think that we are getting somewhere and that maybe now I will get some help. I start sorting his clothes and he walks out of the room. I go "hey babe I need these baskets tonight". He tells me to put the clothes in them on the floor. OMG this defeats the whole dang purpose of cleaning up so I try in my best mom voice ( yeah I used the mom voice on my husband *giggle*) to get him back in the room to get the job done. I say " I want this done right now, not tomorrow". Yeah epic fail on that one. He came rigt back into the room but not to obey my commands. Basically he said no and left no room for argument. I slammed a couple of doors and threw his clothes in a pile in front of his dresser. I am brat. I admit this openly and I also admit that it gets the better of me most of the time. I decide to get into the shower before I start the laundy and I am standing there naked when he drops the bomb that really blows me up and ruins the evening. He asks if he should make bacon and eggs for dinner or mac and cheese. I tell him whatever he wants and he says mac and cheese. I say ok and then he says the dreaded words: "I was kind of hoping that you would make it" Insert explosion! I literally yell "KInd of like I was hoping you could help me out today??? I guess we are both disappointed"! Then as he yells whatever I hop into the shower and stay in there until I know that he has already eaten. Then I sat in my room all night with a book until i went to bed. So life went on and I apologized and it was over but then last night the ridiculous rage reared its head. I was finishing up some laundry and the drier didnt dry one of my loads. I was out of quarters and completely out of patience for house work. I run upstairs to ask mark if he has more quarters and he is just laying there staring at me. I mean he didn't have quarters but he didnt come up with any solutions. I am at my breaking point and he is sitting there watching the smurfs movie while I am missing it trying to come up with a solution. So when I come back up with abasket of wet clothes and I snap "Is it too much work for you to pause the movie whole i hang these up"? The poor man didn't even respond. he just paused the movie and waited. My husband is an incredible man. I yell and yell at him and he mostly takes it. So as I was sitting on the couch pouting he nudges me and asks me if I want a smurf! Haha! This is why I love my husband. I can be in a complete rage and he knows how to make me smile. I wonder what is it about these past few days that have small issues sending me into a rage. Hopefully whatever it is goes away soon or I learn how to better deal with it.