women are not productivity apps

some mornings i wake up convinced i could reorganise my entire life before lunch. i'll answer emails, finish work, clean the kitchen, design something new, finally fold that laundry that's been judging me for three days and maybe even start a new hobby while i'm at it. other mornings i stare at the coffee machine like we're both waiting for the other one to make the first move. same person. same life. different day. i've been wondering lately why that bothers me so much. why do i expect every tuesday to feel exactly like the last one? why do i get frustrated when yesterday's energy doesn't show up today? if my phone battery dropped from one hundred percent to fifteen overnight, i'd plug it in without questioning its personality. but when my own energy disappears, my first instinct is to question mine.

maybe it's because everything around us runs on consistency. calendars do. deadlines do. office hours do. school starts at the same time every morning. bills don't care if you slept well. the washing machine doesn't politely wait until you're emotionally available. life keeps moving in straight lines, so we quietly expect ourselves to do the same. except... i don't think we do. at least i don't. some days ideas arrive faster than i can write them down. on other days, even replying to a message feels strangely loud. i catch myself saying things like, "i'm so behind," when really i'm just tired. or overwhelmed. or maybe i'm simply having an ordinary human day. it's funny how quickly we turn temporary feelings into permanent character traits.

i don't know what the answer is yet. maybe there isn't one. maybe the goal isn't to become more consistent. maybe it's to stop acting surprised every time we're human. i'm still figuring that out. if you are too, pull up a chair. we'll drink our reheated coffee together.