I Carried the Shopping Bags in Two Trips and Resented Both Trips Equally

Dear Delyara, The first trip was practical. The second one felt personal. Milk, pasta, cat food, fruit, toilet roll, potatoes, cereal — nothing glamorous, just the whole weight of ordinary life in plastic handles cutting into my fingers. By the second trip, I could feel that sharp tired domestic resentment rising, the kind that has very little to do with the bags and everything to do with the fact that there is always one more thing to carry. I put them down in the kitchen harder than I meant to. Then I stood there breathing for a second, annoyed at the bags, annoyed at myself for being annoyed, annoyed at how many evenings now seem built from carrying things that do not look emotionally important enough to explain why they are exhausting. Then I unpacked the shopping. Of course I did.