I sat on the bed and could not move for a minute

Dear Delyara, Coat still on. Bag still on my shoulder. Shoes still on. I had come upstairs to change and somehow ended up frozen on the edge of the bed like my body had reached the limit of its ability to switch roles. Work-self had not fully left me yet, and home-self was already waiting downstairs with dinner and noise and one more hour of usefulness required. That in-between state is harder than I think anyone realises. It’s not rest. It’s transition failure. Eventually I stood up and carried on. But for that one minute I felt completely honest in my exhaustion.