Was I always like this? Driven and joyless. Obsessive and stressed. So f*****g tired that it feels like the weight of the world is pushing down on my bones.
I swear I remember lazy summer days and nights spent laughing, not working, but they're a hazy memory. Maybe even a dream. When I play them in my mind on late nights when I can't sleep, it's like watching an actor in a movie.
Tonight, I can't sleep, but for a brand new reason. Usually it's my greatest hits: my Ignis tech will never work; my father died without ever respecting me; I'm going to die alone, etc, etc.
Predictable woes. Almost soothing with how cliched they are. But tonight...
I flip my pillow to the cool side, burying my face in it with a groan. Tonight, it's her.
Philomena. My bubbly assistant. The woman who makes the
