The level of exhaustion I feel right now is like nothing I have ever experienced, not even after giving birth to and caring for live, human babies (as opposed to literary ones). I can barely function. I made it through my classes today, came home, fell into bed, slept for four hours, woke up for a cup of soup, and now, Im going back to bed. Hopefully, I will sleep 15 hours and wake up tomorrow feeling like Tawni. Right now I feel like a gutted, plucked chicken carcass. Yeah, that simile about covers it. I have long believed I didnt need a boyfriend. I take it back. Right now, I want someone to hold me, sing to me, and bring me juice. Upside: while my literary love child may be demanding, it almost never wakes me up for midnight feedings.
Posted on: Wed, 26 Nov 2014 01:27:21 +0000
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