I made everyone’s bed and left mine until last

Dear Delyara, By the time I got upstairs to my own room, I was too tired to care properly. I had straightened the children’s duvets, found missing teddies, opened curtains, picked clothes off the floor, and done all the little morning things that make the house feel less chaotic later. Then I walked into my own room, looked at my bed, and thought, I’ll do it later. That is the pattern, really. Not neglect exactly. Deferment. My own comfort moved down the line because other people’s surroundings felt more urgent. That sounds noble until you live inside it for years and realise how often “later” means “if there is anything left of me after everything else.” There wasn’t much left today. The bed stayed unmade until evening.