I am a sometimes hobbyist chef. Occasionally I'll get the sudden to take the helm on the makings of dinner and experiment with various ingredients and food stuffs in the pantry, fridge and freezer. In this fashion I have churned up some good peanut butter chicken wings, flautas, among a wide variety of seasoned meats.
For lunch today I decided to make a homemade macaroni and cheese. In the process of grating the cheese, my hand slipped and the cheese grater flung to the floor, with it bits of cheese. This is one of those moments that sets me over the edge, into a hissy fit. I started slamming surfaces and proclaiming "goddamnit! I am done! I need to get checked out for Parkinson's because I can touch shit without fucking it up!" I soon cooled off and cleaned up my mess, proceeding on with cooking up my meal.
I realize I wouldn't last for one second on one of those high pressure cooking competition shows. My meltdown would be of epic proportions. When thousands of dollars are at stake to get those cupcakes out on time for the judges to rip apart mentally simultaneously while ripping apart with their tongue and saliva, dropping one utensil in the rush would be enough send my flying off the handle.
I'm normally a level headed individual. I'll stick to my hobbyist meal preparations and take it in perspective. After all, life is messy and probably meant to be that way.