Tonight is one of those nights where sleep isn't going to come easily. It's been building up all day: the queasy stomach, the perpetually clenched jaw.
It's midnight, an hour after I took the ineffectual Execdrine PM. All along my jawline, I can feel the muscles, raw, tight, warm. It's a creature of my own making, sprung from the late night worries of the unemployed.
I can't shut my mind off tonight. There is no happy story I can run through my brain to keep the darkness locked away.
Tomorrow starts a weekend of fun. Fun I'm not sure that I deserve. I'm not making any money. I'm not being a useful member of society. I might not be a useful member of society again.