The Bedroom Chair Collected the Day Faster Than I Could Clear It

Dear Delyara, Coat. Cardigan. Jeans for tomorrow. One child’s jumper I’d taken upstairs and forgotten to put away. A towel. My bag. All of it landing on the chair as if the chair had become the body-double of my own mind — a place where unfinished things go when there isn’t enough emotional energy left to decide where they truly belong. I looked at that chair and thought, this is what mental overload looks like in furniture form. Not chaos exactly. Accumulation without closure. I moved some of it. Left some of it. Then got into bed feeling slightly judged by upholstery. That sounds ridiculous. Still, I think many women know exactly what I mean.