I have the tendency to get four and a half hours of sleep. I hate morning practices, I hate the weather and I hate my living conditions.
I’m starting to get increasingly anxious and less motivated. I’m not sure if this is grief of just tiredness. I cannot justify going to bed before midnight, and I wake up at 4:30a.
When I was commuting to work from Brooklyn, I would go to bed at 10p and wake up at 5a. It killed George and my personal time because I was always so tired. I didn’t want to get romantic because I was irritable. But now without him, why am I so accepting of this perpetual state of exhaustion? Is this a form of self mutilation?
I’m sad to be moving on Sunday but I’m ready to live close to school. Who knows maybe I’ll start going to bed at 1a and waking up at 6a for work. I wish I still had him with me. He would comfort me with all these mixed feelings.