I went to sleep knowing tomorrow had already started loading in my mind

Dear Delyara, Uniforms, lunchboxes, one email, one bill, one call, one pickup, one conversation I’m not looking forward to, one thing I must not forget, one thing I almost certainly will. I hate how early tomorrow enters me now. It arrives before sleep has even properly claimed me, and suddenly the bed is no longer only a place of rest. It’s a planning station, a rehearsal room, a low-lit office for anxious preparation. That may be one of the things I miss most about being younger. Not fewer responsibilities, exactly. More complete endings to a day.