I stayed in the shower longer than I meant to

Dear Delyara, Not because I was washing. Because it was the only place no one could reasonably ask me to locate a charger or explain what time something starts tomorrow. The water was warm, the door was closed, and for a few minutes I could feel my own body without immediately translating it into service. That felt almost luxurious, which is a little sad when I think about it properly. I am not talking about self-care in the fashionable sense. I am talking about one enclosed stretch of time in which I was not being reached by language or expectation. When I turned the water off, I could hear voices outside the door again. The house had resumed. It always does. But those extra three minutes were probably the gentlest thing that happened to me all day.