I packed everyone’s things and left my own glasses behind

Dear Delyara, I noticed it halfway to work when the road signs started looking softer than they should. The children had their bags. The lunchboxes were packed. My husband had his papers. The dog had been fed. I had remembered the school money, the extra snack, the library book, the umbrella by the door because rain was coming later. And still, my own glasses were sitting on the kitchen table where I had left them beside a half-finished cup of tea. That is the pattern I keep noticing in my life. I am excellent at remembering what keeps the day running for everyone else, and strangely casual about my own basic functioning. Not because I do not care. Because by the time I get to myself, so much of my attention has already been spent in advance. I drove on anyway. The whole day felt slightly blurred. That seemed appropriate.