Exit button.

Fortunately it doesn't exist.
Awake very early, I took full advantage of the morning cool hours. So did the dogs. They know when it is officially night, even if it is full daylight and keep very quiet. I prepared a packed lunch of humus, walnuts, parmesan cheese, melon and green tea. About three hours later S emergered from his slumbers and off we went for a sail. The sea was a bit lumpy and the breeze only light so it was tiring, boring and I lost entusiasm. S did something illogical and unreasonable without consulting me which pushed my "here we go again" button. I  began to ask myself how it came to be this way. Did I inadvertantly encourage this habit? Have I not sailed for as many years? Have I not done a few things in my life without advice or imposition from a superior being? Sometimes I find it hard to distinguish between feeling physically unwell and being mentally over-stressed. A day later and I still couldn't  tell you. 
After the sail, at anchor in the bay, rolling about, those wretched acquajet things racing  eachother around the boats, disco music from the beach, dejavu, what am I doing here and why? Exit button. Then the anchor wouldn't come up, thanks to a disconnected wire. Solved. 
Last weekend in a similar situation, he remembered that he had forgotten to remove the hose from the pool.  
Three people had their afternoon at the beach interrupted in a race to reach the pool before the water level reached the pumps and elettrical innards.
Just in time, this time but the stress accumulates. Are we aging badly. We are losing our patience. I am, for sure but are we losing our marbles too?