A perfect evening ruined

So I am a baking freak. I like to bake more than almost anything. I find it soothing and creative and something I can do while working things out in my mind. I had planned on the perfect evening: run, shower, comfy clothes, homework, baking, movie, sleep.  Everything was going as planned until my mother came home and started trying to tell me I was making the cookies wrong. I do not make cookies wrong. It is impossible for me to make cookies wrong. I got my cookies all rolled and cut out and placed on the baking sheet and into the preheated oven and retreated back to my room so everyone would leave me alone. The timer dings 25 minutes later and I discover that my mother, has turned off the over and put my bowl off half full cookie dough in the sink. SERIOUSLY? WHAT THE HELL?!