NO MATTER HOW many times she rubbed her eyes, they still ached. Water, like dry tears left behind after one has cried, squeezed out of them. She blinked furiously. If not for her aching body, burning eyes, or thick woolen head, which made it difficult to walk, she would have congratulated herself on a job well done.
She had gotten ready for bed and had even been falling asleep at an early and reasonable time. But time had gotten a few minutes over what she needed and then an hours’ distraction followed by a panic about the ache in her legs had confidently erased any sleep that night.
She had still achieved her aim though: the reason why she had gotten ready for bed so early, as well as unintentionally finished a book. So yes, she had done well. If only she had done it on more than five hours of sleep.
But she had been in the perfect position to fall asleep and be well rested the next day. Which was, indeed, an improvement. Besides, it had to be, or else she would bitter.
Written: 1 May 2016