Comes the weekend, and I’m not sleeping.

I wish it was for a fun reason. A party. An all-night movie marathon. A giggly sleepover with my girls.

Ha. None of those things makes me sleepless. I get tired, I got to bed. I have been an epically good sleeper all my life.

But comes the weekend and I’m not sleeping.

No extra caffeine. No extra sugar. No extra wine.

But probably all the extra frustration at work has been working on me.

It all starts again tomorrow. Sigh. It’s Sunday night, and I’m already sick of this workweek.

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