Monday morning felt oddly calm. After yesterday’s chaos, the quiet of the house was almost unsettling, but in a good way. I had promised myself I’d make mac and cheese today, something that isn't pasta, they're still kind of related, but, you know.

I moved around the kitchen casually, still in my pajamas, grabbing the ingredients. The smell of butter melting in the pan, followed by the cheese bubbling in the sauce, started to fill the air, and I felt a wave of comfort wash over me. I plated ...