Well. That was a week.

About two months ago, I found a Hoosier cabinet. my *Hoosie* that I’ve named Betsy. I’ve wanted one forever, and I finally found one that I can actually afford, which almost never happens because apparently everybody else in the Midwest also decided they wanted vintage kitchen furniture. Good taste, I guess.

Anyway, I was mentally rearranging my kitchen because that’s apparently what I do for fun now. The cabinet that’s currently there (that modern eyesore I got from Amazon and regret the crap out of) would need to go out to the back porch, except there wasn’t room on the back porch because there’s still a bunch of my sister’s stuff out there (and mine, it’s a work in progress lol). Which is honestly not something I’ve ever cared about. She’s been in her apartment…what, eight months now? Somewhere around there. She doesn’t have much room, I’ve got the space, who cares.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it to her a single time.

Literally not once.

So I made what, in hindsight, was apparently a tactical error and mentioned it while we were both working. I actually thought that was the safest place to do it because who’s going to absolutely lose their mind in the middle of a restaurant?

…My sister, apparently.

It’s weird because she’ll tell me that she sits in her apartment with anxiety because she’s convinced I’m furious that her stuff is still at my house, and I just…where did that come from? I’ve never said anything. Ever. If anything, I’m probably too patient. I just needed one little space cleared out because I’d found a cabinet I’ve wanted for years.

That somehow became evidence that I’m the worst person she’s ever met.

Again.

It’s almost funny how fast it happens. One minute you’re talking about moving a couple of boxes, the next you’re hearing that you’re evil, you’ve ruined somebody’s life, you’re a terrible sister, she never wants to speak to you again. It’s like emotional speedrunning or something.

The part I can’t stop thinking about, though, isn’t even the things she said because honestly I’ve heard most of them before in one form or another. It’s that she laughed.

Like…actually laughed.

Not because something was funny.

She was saying awful things, I was sitting there trying really hard not to completely fall apart at work, and she started chuckling because she could tell it was hurting me. She even admitted she wanted to mess with my head and my self-esteem.

It’s a really strange experience when somebody just tells you what they’re trying to do.

I don’t know.

I think what bothers me the most is realizing how much of my life revolves around trying not to upset her. I’ll rehearse conversations in my head before I have them. I’ll put things off because maybe today’s not a good day. I’ll decide something isn’t worth mentioning because I don’t have ten hours of emotional energy to spare if it goes sideways.

And then eventually you realize you’ve spent months walking on eggshells without even noticing that’s what you were doing.

I love my sister. That’s the stupid part.

If she called me tomorrow because she needed help moving furniture or needed a ride somewhere or whatever, I’d probably help her. I don’t actually want anything bad to happen to her. I want her to be happy. I just…I don’t think I can keep volunteering to be the person she unloads all of this on anymore.

I’ve been thinking about going no-contact for a while now, and every time I think about it I remember that we work together three shifts a week and live in a tiny town where everybody knows everybody else, so it’s not exactly as simple as blocking a phone number and calling it a day.

I don’t know what the answer is yet.

I just know I don’t think normal people have to spend this much time trying to figure out the least dangerous way to ask someone if they could move a couple of boxes.

Anyway. The Hoosier cabinet’s still available, at least it was the last time I looked, so maybe something good will come out of this whole ridiculous mess. I still need to figure out where I’m putting the thing, assuming I actually bring it home.

My kitchen is somehow less complicated than my family, which feels backwards somehow lol.