As she folded the laundry, she was troubled with the sense that she was forgetting something. Something big. It had been a busy morning, a quick round of dishes, two loads of laundry, and five emails after the usual breakfast and shower. All of this productivity didn’t lift the ominous weight of forgetfulness.

It wasn’t work. She had just sent the report that was due to her boss and knew that she was ahead there. Not that anyone noticed. Due to her efficiency and organization, her colleagues just started to take for granted that her projects would be on time. Nevermind that it was impressive that anyone managed to complete a task in such a dysfunctional environment.

Maybe it had to do with her husband. His birthday was in a few weeks, and she wanted to look for a place to go away for the weekend. He was under a lot of pressure at work, so she wanted to surprise him. It gave her anxiety, though, because she had a hard time making decisions like that without consulting him.

But the burden of the forgettfulness seemed much larger than that. As she paired the socks, she tried to think of all the unsettled things in her head. Did she make the right decision moving out of the city? Was she really ready to try and have a baby? Could she be a good mother? Would her husband be there for her when she is unsure?

She put the folded t-shirts in the top drawer. As she ordered her physical world, her head spun with more and more uncertainties. The load of forgetting was still heavy, even as the laundry piles got lighter and lighter. Perhaps it is not forgetting, but not knowing what is unknowable, that weighed her down.