I am doing the best I can.

Bread proves slower in a cold kitchen. Same flour, same yeast, same hands — it simply takes the afternoon instead of the hour, and nobody stands over the bowl accusing it of laziness.

Your best is not a fixed figure. It moves with sleep, with how much noise the week made, with whether the morning went on managing something invisible to everyone else. Today's version may look thin beside a Tuesday in March. It is still the entire amount there was.