I found the school jumper in the bathroom again

Dear Delyara, I don’t know why clothes in this house keep travelling in ways no one can explain. The jumper was damp at the cuffs and half inside out, dropped on the bathroom floor like it had simply given up on being part of a system. I picked it up before I’d even brushed my teeth, and that small act somehow set the tone for the whole morning. One more thing left for me to notice first. One more tiny mess waiting for my hands before the day had properly started. I know it sounds small. That’s exactly why it gets under my skin. So much of my life now is made of small things that would look ridiculous written on a list and still manage to wear me down emotionally because they never come alone. They come in clusters. They come before coffee. They come in the same hands that are already packing lunch, checking time, and remembering everybody’s version of the day.