Remember

 It's 6:42pm, I'm standing in my kitchen - arms dangling by my side, vacant expression on my face. Gabriel's face is quizzical. 

I look around slowly and finally focus my eyes on his face. 

"I can't tell if I've done enough today." 

He reassures me that I most certainly have. But what I mean is...

I can't remember what I meant to do today. I can't remember what I actually did today. I can't remember how many projects, meals, conversations, ideas, and tasks I've started - or if I completed any of them. I can't remember how it felt to not know. I can't remember what it felt like to remember.

I wander slowly into the bedroom. The wall is covered in rows of neatly matted and framed family photos. So I did finish something today... Exhausted by the sheer act of remembering something, I collapse onto the bed. 

Will I get back up tonight? 

Do I need to?

I want to...but what was I going to do? What was I in the middle of... 

I wander slowly back up the hall, maybe I'll remember. 

Maybe I'll manage to remember.