I stood at the fridge and could not remember what I opened it for

Dear Delyara, I know everyone does this sometimes, but last night it felt like a message. I opened the fridge, stared at the shelves, and had absolutely no idea why I was there. Milk, eggs, leftover pasta, yoghurt, carrots — all of it perfectly visible, none of it connected to a purpose. Then I remembered: I wanted butter for toast. The reason came back. The feeling stayed. I think what unsettled me was not the forgetting itself. It was how unsurprised I felt by it. As if my mind being overcrowded had become so normal that even a small blank moment no longer felt unusual, only mildly irritating. I made the toast. I ate it standing up. And I thought, I need to give myself fewer things to carry before my body starts dropping them for me.