A Letter From the Woman Who Never Gets to Say, “I’m Tired”
A Letter From the Woman Who Never Gets to Say, “I’m Tired” Dear All, I don't know exactly when it happened. When I became the person who remembers everything. The school timings. The doctor's appointment. The grocery list. The birthday. The bill that needs to be paid. The shirt that needs ironing tomorrow. The food someone doesn't like. The food someone suddenly wants. The message that needs replying. The relative who needs checking on. The thing my husband mentioned three days ago and has probably already forgotten. Somehow, I remember. I always remember. And somehow, everyone knows that I will. My day starts before everyone else's The house is quiet when I wake up. For a few minutes, nobody needs anything from me. Then my mind starts. Breakfast. Lunch. School. Uniforms. Bags. Water bottles. Who has homework? Who has an activity today? What needs to be bought? What needs to be cleaned? What did I forget yesterday? And before my feet e...