I don't know if this counts as a confession, it's kinda stupid, but I just… I got a call today from Mom's facility, again, about something tiny (like she wouldn't eat her pureed green beans, ffs) and my first thought, before anything else, was just this... wave of pure annoyance. Like, I’m 50, I run a business, I live hours away—what do they WANT me to do about it? (I mean, besides the obvious things, obviously.) It just makes me feel like such a bad daughter, like a total failure, even though I'm trying my best. I think maybe I should feel more upset for her, not for me.