On permission and broccoli soup

A writing exercise about forgiving yourself

I’m having one of those days and maybe weeks where I get home from picking up the baby at daycare and as soon as I start chopping the shallot for the broccoli soup I remember all the tasks that remain to be done, the miles to go before I sleep. There is the laundry I started and then left overnight which may or may not need to be rewashed but I put it in the dryer for 20 minutes even though a lot of it is air dry only but I was hoping to avoid the mildew smell that would necessitate a second wash. The dishwasher that needs emptying, how two people can produce this many dirty dishes I will never know, because it’s not even like the food I am cooking is that complicated but somehow I seem to be running the dishwasher every night.