I forgot my own tea three times

Dear Delyara, The first time because my son needed help with homework. The second because my husband asked if I’d replied to something important. The third because the dog was scratching to go out and no one else moved. By the time I actually drank it, it was flat and lukewarm and somehow perfectly symbolic of the whole day. Not ruined. Just repeatedly delayed until the comfort had mostly gone out of it. That’s what gets me now. Not always big pain. Repeated interruption. The way something simple and kind can keep being postponed until it no longer feels like care when it finally reaches me. I drank it anyway. I just felt sadder than tea should make a person feel.