Before I Sleep

Right now:

Water is dripping through the radiator, making a distinctively wet sound as it bounces off bits of old pipe.

The window is open, and the lovely March 1st air is peering through the screen.

Ally snores above me. Her hair flutters off her nose with each breath.

"Miles to go before I sleep."

The stack of flash cards grows ever higher.

The minutes tick off into space.

I've put on my taboo Stanford sweatshirt (no one can see it now).

The end is almost in sight.