The third day of advent

Still waiting. Still dreading. Not sure way. The waiting, not the dreading. I should now better. Hell awaits.

Nightbus

When I was a teen bound for school the next morning and I got in bed at 3 in the morning – or is that night? – I always felt like there is plenty of time left to sleep. And usually there was. I still feel the same way now, except that I’m not a teen anymore. And I am getting up at three.