The Seventeen Hour Day
Man, am I glad I'm single. And childless. And have no dependents.
Otherwise, being at work for seventeen hours might cause some familial conflict. Remember what I said about how work randomized my sleep schedule last week? Well, the trend continues, mercilessly.
And the funny thing is that now that I'm ready for bed, I'm too wired to actually fall asleep. I'm going to have to pop some pills and put in some earbuds just to distract myself enough to drift off to sleep.
I'm physically exhausted; so why don't I feel drowsy? Maybe it's the caffeine still rushing up and down my veins. Maybe it's my brain furiously trying to decompress two business days of stuff into a single night's repose.
Maybe it's just the OCD. I don't know, and I don't care. I want to go to sleep, goddammit. Why can't you let me have a good night's rest for once in your miserable, godforsaken life?
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