I embrace the still silence and the cold humid night.
I sway with dizzyness and lethargy.
I play with words in an awkward manner, making mistakes on purpose. Or not.
I am glad I chose headphones over a set of satellite speakers. Late night playlists blaring on 70% and I'm the only one doing the jives.
I love it when the cat curls up in a fetal position on my lap as I struggle to plan my next lesson.
I find it amusing how a simple act of procrastination is capable of such grief and depression.
Yet, I keep repeating them like a dose of nicotine I can't get out of my veins.
Sleep has become irregular. Giving me an excuse to whine to my students about how my eyes are burning. It hurts.
Bad habits die hard. Real hard.
I might go deaf.