I heard the washing machine and felt resentment

Dear Delyara, The cycle had finished, which meant one more thing was now mine again. Hang it up, dry it, fold it later, put it away, repeat. I know that sounds childish, but there are evenings where the sound of an appliance completing its task doesn’t feel like progress. It feels like handover. That’s what domestic life becomes sometimes — not finished things, only transferred things. The responsibility moves from one stage to the next and eventually lands in my hands whether I have energy for it or not. I did the washing. I also stood in the utility room for a minute feeling weirdly close to tears over a machine beep. Both can be true.