I usually don't like getting yelled at. But yesterday was gloriously different. In the checkout line at my least favorite grocery store, the cashier and I discovered that I'd tossed an incorrect item into my shopping cart. As the helpful store manager sorted it out, the haughty matron in line behind me became apoplectic. She rapped her designer pen on the counter like a Talbots-clad Keith Moon. Instead of becoming annoyed or embarrassed as she screeched about the two-minute delay, I felt giddy as the weariness and frustration I'd accumulated over the course of the day evaporated. The louder she complained, the more refreshed I became. Thanks, cranky lady!