Tired

I'm tired.
So tired.
In the day I'm fighting to stay afloat in this sea of deadlines, but I barely manage to do so.
I have everything planned out - on this day I'll do this, this and this.
It's a watertight plan, and I know I can do it as long as I focus.

God help me, I'm really doing my best to focus.
I know what I want, and I want to work towards it.
This is my last semester to do something, to make my mark somewhat.
But I'm just so tired.

My mind's swirling with all the words I want to use, all the phrases and sayings I want to write down.
But I'm so out of it I can barely even keep a complete train of thought for more than a minute.
Everything's flying through my mind - it's like my thoughts are those flying keys in Harry Potter and I'm desperately trying to catch the right one, the one I need for this door.


I'm so scared.
My stories are due tomorrow for peer editing, and I've only finished one because I've been running so far behind my own schedule.
I know everyone else is as slow as I am, but it's little comfort when you remind yourself that you're supposed to be more responsible about this.
You should have done this ages ago, but you procrastinated like always.

There are currently two voices in my mind.

One sounds like a supportive, albeit worried, friend.
Don't worry, it's Nat we're talking about - she'll find her way out of this, she always does.
She knows how to land on her feet, you'll see.

Another sounds like a television commentary.
Ladies and gents, it sure looks as though our heroine might not make it!
Will she or won't she? Fate's a fickle friend after all!
Stay tuned to find out!

I was tossing the same bloody phrase in my mind the whole of last night - dreamed of it even.
I can't get it, it's just a bloody phrase that's getting increasingly difficult to work with.
But I'm so tired that I can't think of a single alternative lead I can possibly use for my story.
It's like a Rubik's Cube that I can't figure out no matter how I twist it.
(I never did like those stupid things.)

I have to go - my story's calling to me.
It's like the worst of lovers:
Do me, but I won't tell you how.


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