I found the birthday card unsigned

Dear Delyara, The gift was wrapped, the child was dressed, the party time was close, and I opened the card to check something and saw that no one had written in it. Not my daughter. Not me. Nobody. Just a blank inside staring back at me like one more stupid little thing I had assumed had already happened. That’s what got to me — the assumption. My mind keeps moving tasks across invisible lines and acting as if they are complete when they are not. That feels dangerous in a life this full. We wrote the card in the car. It was fine. But I arrived at the party carrying a level of adrenaline no birthday event had earned. Some days every tiny omission feels like evidence against me. Today it was a card.