I found the clean washing still in the basket

Dear Delyara, Folded? Of course not. Just sitting there from yesterday like a quiet reminder that life never really lets me finish anything in one go. I had already mentally counted it as done. That was the sad part. In my head, the washing had moved categories — from “task” to “handled.” Then I walked past the basket and there it was, proving that my mind and reality had officially separated at some point during the week. I wanted to ignore it. I didn’t. So I folded school socks and T-shirts at half-past nine while thinking about how many parts of my life are like that now — not undone exactly, but not done enough to stop taking up emotional space either.