Mud in My Veins

This week has been absurdly tiring. It seems like no matter what I do, I cannot get enough sleep. I went to bed on Wednesday night at 8:30pm. I slept until about 6:45. I was still tired all day. Last night I managed to stay awake til 9:30. But today I am walking around as if there is a disconnect between me and the world. I feel so tired that I feel almost numb.

This feeling of not being able to summon any get-up-and-go is something that I like to call “mud in my veins.” That’s what it feels like. Instead of blood, I’ve got mud and it isn’t exactly energizing. Maybe it’s because of the image of slogging through mud. How it sucks onto your shoes and slows you down. Or maybe it’s something to do with making mud pies and how heavy they are—a big damp, solid heaviness in your hands.

Earlier in the week I blamed it on the weather. I figured that the heat was waking me up. Or maybe it was making Scout think that he needed to be outside doing hot weather cat things and he was waking me up. But the weather has turned much milder and my sleepiness hasn’t abated. So it may be time to start considering more hypochondriacal causes. Or more coffee.