End Game

I'm pretty sure I'm dying.

Not in the passive manner in which we are all, every day, inching closer toward our eventual mortal demise. No, I'm pretty sure I am actively dying. Perhaps even proactively dying. (Because honestly, wouldn't death fix it all?)

Saturday night, I slept forever. I haven't kept a close count of my generally erratic sleep patterns, but I don't tend to sleep well or very long on a day to day basis. Saturday night, my body just gave up entirely before 8pm.

Sunday was murky. I can imitate life for only so long.

If the end is near, I do hope it is swift and painless. Like passing out after a long, productive day and just never waking up. That would be nice.