My friend left her slippers at my place sometime last year. They're still here.
I see them every time I'm near the door. I think “I should bring those next time.” And then I see her, and of course I don't have them with me. Again.
It would be easy to blame the slippers. But it's not really about the slippers.
It's the question you forgot you wanted to ask until you were already home. The story you kept meaning to tell but somehow never remembered when you were actually with them. The thing she mentioned once in passing that actually matters.
We mean well. We just forget.
I'm building Next Time because the slippers deserve better. She deserves better.