fa·tigue

Journal

I never have a day off- bags under my eyes grow into an old expression on my face. Something more permanent, harder to dispose of with a cup of coffee or one good nights rest.

I’m happier in my free time, however.

Laying in bed to take a nap, it has become the most luxurious commodity I can imagine.

Always smelling like espresso grounds and dish sanitizer. Can’t get the smell out of my pants.

And when the thought lurks into my mind to slow down and take a day off, I remember why I’m working so hard right now. One day I want to be able to sleep in until 10 everyday. One day I want to be driving a car with heated leather seats and unnecessary lights everywhere. One day I want to go shopping at Sephora and Whole Foods without having to check the prices on everything I pick up.

So that means San Francisco. That means University. That means putting myself through school. Long months. Long hours. Minutes of insanity. Long walks late at night after twelve hour days, five hours of lectures and an entire workday all in one- can’t sleep anymore. not even when i’m exhausted.

not even with a glass of wine.

or a hot shower.

or sex.

Exhaustion weeps from my pores.

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