I opened the fridge and forgot why I had opened it

Dear Delyara, The answer came back eventually. Cheese. I had gone there for cheese. But for those few seconds I just stood in front of the open fridge light staring at jars and vegetables like a woman who had walked into the wrong life by mistake. That unsettled me more than it should have. Not because forgetting one small thing means anything terrible on its own, but because I can feel how often my mind now operates under too much load. Too many small responsibilities, too many emotional tabs open, too many half-finished thoughts interrupted by somebody else’s need before they can properly land. I found the cheese. Closed the fridge. And quietly admitted to myself that this wasn’t about memory. It was about crowding.