I had a near-breakdown last week when the ceiling fan light in my bedroom wouldn't turn on. Turns out the fan wasn't actually broken, just switched off with the pull chain so the wall switch didn't work.
In my defense though, this fan episode was a whole ten minutes after I shaved Luke's head immediately after discovering he had lice for the second time this summer. It was 30 minutes after trying to bake cookies with my sister and discovering my oven was broken, and a couple hours after discussing with Brian about having to replace our ailing air conditioner and hoping we could make it through the summer. Just that morning, I was talking with some family members about how we really need to replace the rotting siding on our house as soon as we can figure out where that 15 grand is coming from.
Brian came into our room and silently pulled the chain on the fan light and it came on all while giving me a look that clearly meant that I needed to get more sleep. I was okay again.