It’s late. I should be asleep right now… I’ve got work in the morning. Instead, I’m sitting here with a Chromebook and a cup of chai, listening to it rain outside. This is probably the most relaxed I’ve been in… well, a long time.
Every once in a while, I wish I had some painkillers or something because I don’t want to fall asleep, I want to be enveloped by it. I want to sink into sleep as though it were a cushioned vat of vanilla-scented gel that would just absorb me completely.
Sometimes I lie here in bed at night, trying to go to sleep, but also trying to work out why exactly I’m so depressed all the time. I have no reason to be. My life is good. Compared to a huge number of people, my life is actually fucking amazing. So what is it that’s wrong with me? This is normally when I’d delete this post and put the tablet in the floor, resolute in my newfound desire to go to sleep. Tonight, I’m posting it. Maybe tomorrow I’ll read it and either be able to answer myself or tell myself to quit being such a bitch.