stressed

The hour is late and an unhealthy time to be out studying. I glance at my glowing mac book air clock, the time reading 12:22 am. Bracken library should be dead at a time like this. Nothing but the sounds of crisp papers turning and fingers typing fill the air. I pull my unwashed hair a bit and sigh at the fact that I’m only about 50% done with my homework. Once I complete my assignments, studying is next on the agenda, NOT sleep. My eyes begin to water while the heaviest of bags begin to form underneath my eyes. The table I’m slouched at is scattered with an enormous mess of chemistry study guides and an iced coffee that is supposed to keep me awake but is failing miserably. The nearby seats are filled with students reflecting my exact appearance: boys and girls hovering over books and typing away on laptops, stopping every few minutes to scroll on their phone to keep their sanity. Nearby windows reveal the darkness of the night sky, reminding me of how little of sleep I’ll be getting tonight. I am also reminded of how much work I have to cram into the next almost 2 hours before my second home closes. My homework has taken over my life so much that a simple painting of roses directly in front of me look more like red blood cells than they do flowers. A narrow hall leading to a spiral staircase tempts me to pack up my belongings and jump into my cozy bed but my quizzes and math aren’t going to do themselves.