Or, SERENITY NOW!
So, tonight I finished pumping (which I do every night before bed) and left my Precious sitting on the living room table while we finished watching Louie (which YOU, TOO, SHOULD BE WATCHING. It's so good it makes me all shouty. Also, give Wilfred a try. It's nuts, but in the good way. There's a talking dog. I mean, a guy in a dog suit who talks. To that hobbit. You know, Elijah Wood. Man, it's hard to believe I give out these recommendations for free. You're welcome). So I got up to put away my Liquid Gold and discovered that a fly -- a beady-eyed fucking fly -- had landed inside the neck of the apparatus (the little doohicky that connects the flange to the bottle with the filter on the inside). Which means I just dumped 4.5 ounces of milk, that took an hour to pump on the left side, down the drain. GODDAMNIT.
I am not a violent person, but I made sure that Jeff Goldblum took a tour of the In-sink-erator.