I found the school shoes in the kitchen

Dear Delyara, Not by the door. Not in the hallway. In the kitchen, beside the radiator, one on its side and one half under the chair. I just stood there looking at them while the kettle boiled and felt that very specific kind of tiredness that comes from being the person who keeps discovering everybody else’s unfinishedness. Shoes where shoes shouldn’t be. Cups where cups shouldn’t be. Wet towels where towels definitely shouldn’t be. And somehow all of it ends up becoming part of my morning before I’ve even fully entered my own body. I moved the shoes, made the tea, packed the lunches, and carried on. That is what I always do. But I am beginning to realise how much of my day starts with tidying up loose ends that were never mine to drop in the first place.