For the memories

A recent 100-words entry:

It's hard to get up in the early mornings when the world is still pitch-black and even the sound of traffic in this large city is muted. The lights seem almost too bright for my eyes as I sit here at the computer, willing the words to come, willing the coffee to seek a path through my muddled brain and force coherent syllables from my fingertips to the keyboard to this white box where I type each day, squeezing thoughts from my tired mind, thoughts that maybe someday I'll be happy to look back on and grateful to have.

But have I learned my lesson?

This morning's 100 words:

 

My hands are numb this morning, the way they always get when I haven't had enough sleep. It's a pins-and-needles feeling, and I don't know why it happens, but I wake up with it whenever I don't allow myself to rest. The stupid thing is that I know I need to get more sleep, but each night I go to bed well past the hour I should. I stay up late reading, usually, or writing, then finally turn off my light for my scant five hours of sleep, knowing I'll complain the next day about how tired I am.