Bloodshot Eyes

This weekend my late, great alma mater celebrates its two-hundreth birthday. I will be celebrating my twenty-sixth birthday to boot. The trouble is that I’m not sure I’m going to have any energy left to enjoy any of the festivities. I sit here typing this and I have no idea where I’m even finding the strength to guide my fingers across the keys. It’s going to be rough and I wish it were going to be easier.

I renewed my license today and that was about all I accomplished. I did work and exercise and I managed to finish the second-to-last story in the Flannery O’Connor collection I’m reading but most of my day was spent in a tired haze. And I don’t think any amount of sleep tonight is going to make tomorrow any different.

In traffic, on the way from work to the gym, I was actually nodding off at stop lights. I actually don’t know how I even made it through the workout. Tomorrow night I not only have my regular workout but I have another meeting with the personal trainer. That’s going to be rough too.

If I had gotten past the threshold of exhaustion I might have decided to stay up and watch tonight’s Red Sox game but I haven’t gotten there yet, to that point where you’re so tired you’re not tired at all. So, I think I’ll go to bed and trust to the team to win it without me watching.