woke up feeling terribly ill. nothing surprising, medusa always feels sick when it is time to wake up. she can only dream of days when there will be nothing to do and nowhere to go and no reason to wake up, save the one why one should anyway wake up, that is, one is no longer asleep.
having spent most of her life this way, medusa is now horrifically pressed for time, and the few hours of sleep are invariably disturbed, coming only in snatches and snatched away by the recurring fear of not being able to get up on time.
this is what growing up means, doesn't it? not being able to not do anything because one doesn't feel up to?
now there are commitments to meet, promises to keep and work to be done.
hate this life.