Sunday used to end with me wandering around the house, trying to remember everything Monday might demand. I called it preparation, but it mostly looked like opening the same three apps and sighing.
Now I make tea and write down three things: what needs doing, what can wait, and what would make the week feel a little kinder. The third list is usually the most useful one.
Sometimes it says buy oranges. Sometimes it says do not book anything after six. Last week it said wear the good trousers on Tuesday, for no reason other than I like them.
The week still arrives. It just arrives with fewer imaginary emergencies waiting on the doorstep.