parched

The exhaustion comes in waves. Baby didn't sleep well. I didn't sleep well. That's nothing new. I never have been a good sleeper, but this is something else. Bone tired. I've climbed mountains. I've mixed concrete by hand. I've stayed up all night writing. Or laughing. Or crying. But this is something else. This wave knocked me down for a minute. Just a minute. A breath. Then I'll be up to push through to the next one. 

PS: I found out the next day it was Lyme's.