Suddenly, for reasons probably known only to the fates, I'm in a psychotically bad mood.

There's a thing I need to do, a phone call, to make Buehler get off my back. And then I need to do another thing, fill out and fax a form, to get Bernie off my back. And I'm so psychotically irritated at both of them that I cannot, no matter how I struggle, overcome the mental roadblock preventing me from doing these two things.