I Put the Milk Back in the Fridge and Forgot I’d Already Put It Back Once

Dear Delyara, I had taken it out, used it, put it back. Then, a minute later, I saw it on the counter again and thought, I still need to put that away. Except it was not the milk. It was my mind looping badly around itself, repeating a completed thought as if it still belonged to the present moment. I stood there with my hand on the fridge door and felt suddenly old in the wrong way. Not age as wisdom. Age as crowding. Too much inside the head. Too little real stillness. Too many practical details arriving without enough clean mental space to place them in. I know one small mistake means nothing. I also know patterns do. That frightened me more than I wanted to admit.