Busy.

Tossing and turning all night. Praying for the sun to not lift itself up above the horizon. I want to lay in the dark for another day. Sinking feelings pitted deep in my chest come in waves, washing over me like a waterfall. It feels like when you’re swimming in the deep end, and run out of air when you know you are nowhere near the surface. Fake a breath to try to trick your mind into not letting you drown.

Rolling over onto my other side, I open my eyes to the sight of my cat staring down upon me. Her eyes are squinty, and I know that I’m not the only one who wishes it were still dark outside. My arms feel like sandbags, but I lift them to scrunch her ears just the way she likes. She snuggles me for about an hour before I fall asleep at night, and then gets up to stalk bugs. I think she knows that I have trouble sleeping. “There, there, human. I’ll bring you rest.”

My feet hit the floor and I immediately regret my decision to leave the warmth of my fleece blanket. The walk to the bathroom is long and mindless. My day is full and I am not ready for it. Coffee. Cigarette. Breakfast.

Every day is busy. Even when I’m not.

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