Sunday at the shop is a different rhythm from Saturday.
Fewer parcels. Fewer questions about postage to Guangzhou or Shanghai. Just the fridge humming near the till, and me, restocking the supplement wall for the third time this week.
Fish oil. Calcium. CoQ10. DHA. Probiotics, in three different brands, because everyone has an opinion about which one absorbs better.
I know this shelf better than I know my own bathroom cabinet at this point.
Mrs Lam came in around two. I hadn't seen her in a while — she's not a weekly face, more like once every month or two, whenever she's running low.
Small basket already in one hand, reading glasses pushed up on her head, list half-memorised even though she doesn't come in that often.
"Probiotics first," she said, picking up the bottle before I'd even reached for it. "Then the calcium."
"Order matters?"
"My daughter's rule, not mine." She smiled. "Sort out the stomach first, she says. Then everything else actually gets used, instead of just passing through."
I nodded, like I hadn't heard some version of this from at least three other customers this month.
"Bone scan next month too," she added, tapping the calcium box. "Doctor says keep it up."
"Good on you for staying on top of it."
She waved a hand. "At your age you don't think about it yet. Wait till you're my age."
I laughed, the way you do when someone says something kind and slightly wrong at the same time.
She paid, picked up her basket, and headed back out onto Forest Road.
I went back to the shelf. Started lining up the calcium boxes so the labels all faced the same way, the way I always do without really deciding to.
Probiotics for Mrs Lam. DHA for Mum and Dad's dining table. Fish oil for the couple who always split one bottle between them. CoQ10 for the man who never says much, just points.
I stopped halfway through a row.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd bought anything off this wall for myself.
Not the probiotics. Not the calcium. None of it.
I stood there a moment, one box in each hand, feeling a bit foolish about it — like discovering you've been handing out slices of a cake you never actually tasted.
I put both boxes back exactly where they belonged, facing out, labels straight.
Then, without quite deciding to, I picked one bottle of probiotics off the top shelf and set it aside behind the till. Not rung up. Not paid for. Just set aside.
I told myself I'd sort it out before I left.
The afternoon carried on. A woman asking about protein powder for her husband. A teenager buying a birthday card for someone at school.
By closing, the bottle was still sitting behind the till, exactly where I'd left it.
I locked up, keys in one hand, the probiotics in the other, and stood on the footpath a second longer than I needed to.
Maybe tomorrow.