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Saturday, 5 February 2011

Leave me the hell alone, if you would

So, making plans for tonight's dinner. Mum says she wants the spring rolls. I agree they're easier to make than sushi, so I'm in for spring rolls. Mum also says we have to have whole salmon. Fine. We'll have whole salmon. We can even make some curry sauce to go with it. Dad wants sushi. And we have to have tempura salmon and raw salmon sushi. Even though it's not sensible and potentially poisonous. Fine. Come morning, no, we're not doing the curry sauce. Fine. I have to go out with my mum to buy groceries. Fine. My mum wants us to wait in two queues to pay for the groceries. I wait for a bit in another queue and decide it's stupid, she'll get there soon enough. She yells at me and calls me an idiot because some lady took the spot I was supposed to be waiting for when I made up my mind not to wait in the other line. I told her she was being ridiculous, that I just don't see how saving 5min or so is so important. She insists I'm an idiot for letting the other lady get ahead of me in the line. Not fine.

When we're out buying ice cream for dessert I mention I don't care what flavours they buy, that I'd made some suggestions in the shopping list but I'd long ago lost my say on what we eat for dinner tonight. I was going for flavours without any milk in them. She decided we should have the one that's milk-based with red fruits. See if I care by now. Then she insists that I should be the one to buy the ice cream. I tell her she can buy it herself. I have no say in what happens, and I sure as hell don't want anything to do with the dinner. She get mad at me again because she says I should fight for the things I want, so suddenly it's wrong to agree with people to avoid an argument and it's all my fault if things go wrong when I let people disagree with me knowing my opinion is probably better. So it's my fault my little one died because I knew it was bad and didn't bother insisting knowing they'd pull out the "we don't have money for treatment" argument.

She bought the ice cream and we walked back in silence. When we got here and I started getting ready to chop the vegetables we bought, she came in and apologised. Fuck her. She doesn't get to ask me to forgive her. I'm not forgiving her. I shook my head, my back still turned to her. She picked up the owl calendar thing A gave me for Christmas and asked who it was from. I answered with a broken voice it was from A. She said something about how my dad shouldn't be e-mailing my cousin to ask about the USF info. I fucking know! She says I should be doing this myself. Fine. So as soon as I'm done ranting I'm writing the e-mails. I'll only consider cooking once I'm done crying. Yes I'm fucking upset. How the hell is it wrong to be nice and why do I have to do things I think aren't ok just because others tell me, only it's also wrong to do what others tell me? And I'm still thinking, "No, she can't just wash her hands off of my little one's death. She doesn't get to pin this on me. She doesn't get to say she misses my little one."

If there's any food poisoning, they don't get to say I cooked dinner and it's my fucking fault.

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