Bed

I got ready for bed. The ritual of it was sort of soothing. I moved into the guest room. It's so much sunnier and aesthetically cleaner and the bed is more comfortable. It's actually pretty nice. Small pleasures. I'm feeling a little more calm, but also still upset about all these things with my mother. Strange how a part of your life that seems steady and inconsequential can suddenly emerge as the most stressful.

I remember a time when she was just generally in a terrible mood about something that probably had nothing to do with me. I was about 11. maybe 12. and she was making lemon bars for a party i think. and while she was getting dressed she asked me to watch them in the oven, to check the timer. they were in the oven the exact amount of time they were supposed to be in, but they were burned. she was so upset. so so upset. and i felt terrible. and i was trying to tell her that they were still salvageable and that we could just cut around the burned parts, but she was too upset. i don't remember what she did instead, whether she bought something else or took them anyway, but it ruined my night. i felt so terrible about it. i made her a card, drew her a picture with markers on a folded sheet of copy paper of perfectly unburned, bright yellow lemon bars and slipped it under her bedroom door. i don't know what made me do it. i generally didn't do things like that. and the burned lemon bars were definitely not my fault. but i just was so upset about it that i had to do something. i think the gesture made her realize how much she had overreacted and then i think she felt guilty about snapping at me, which then made me feel terrible about apologizing and making her feel that way. i don't know what the point of this story was. except i feel a little bit like that now. like i burned her lemon bars. except that it wasn't my fault that they're burned. and she's overreacting. and none of it is actually even about lemon bars.