A colleague thanked the whole team for a fix I'd spent most of the afternoon untangling, and I was irritated. There, no noble interpretation needed. It was a team job, someone else had taken the original call, but I wanted my part seen too. I said nothing at the time, then gave my husband the extended version over dinner. He asked whether I wanted a medal or simply my name in the email. The second, actually. I can be pleased that the user is working again and still think the credit was vague. By bedtime I wasn't angry, just slightly embarrassed by how much airtime I'd given a two-line message.

Stood chopping vegetables for langar and found myself taking the same little stance I use on a long support call, one foot tucked behind the other, shoulders forward. Straightened up and suddenly realised how hot my scalp was under my turban; the kitchen had warmed gradually while we talked. Stepped aside for water, then came back with my sleeves adjusted and more room at the table. By the end my legs felt solidly tired, but my eyes weren't gritty as they are after an afternoon of screens. On the bus I was glad of a seat and very nearly slept through my stop. Service completed, return journey less carefully managed.

Practising Punjabi reading with Mum, I keep guessing the rest of a familiar phrase instead of looking at every word. She catches me because I say the version she usually says, not what's on the page. At work I tell people not to click through a message because it resembles the one they saw yesterday, so this is familiar advice returning in an inconvenient form. I slowed down and followed the line with a finger, which felt childish until I reached a word I'd been getting wrong for years. We argued about the pronunciation, naturally. Reading practice is also a perfectly effective way to start a family discussion.