Instead, I become distracted by the half pizza on the cutting board, now cold and rock hard. Dirty dishes fill the sink. I pull the scarf from around my neck, flip high heels from my feet to the corner, and begin unloading the dishwasher. Inside, resentment is building like a locomotive gaining momentum. With each plate and glass stacked in the cabinet, I threaten to blow off steam.
Easily, I can get distracted too... I know this narrative full well
