Tired

Damn, I'm tired this week.

I'm so tired that I believe it is the first thing I've said to each person I've met in the past 9 days.  

I'm so tired I wake up in the morning and count how many hours I have before I can be done with the day and be sleeping again. 

I'm so tired that (while first recalling that as recent as April I could run 50 miles a week and sometimes 18 miles at a time through often sub-zero temperatures) at the 2-mile point of each 4-mile run I have completed this week, I am so weary that I stop running altogether and have to stop and take heaving breaths, using vats of willpower to keep from lying down on the grass, usually the Cambridge side of the Charles River just before the Longfellow Bridge, to take a nap.

I'm so tired that it takes me most of the work day to do a task that should take an hour.  More explicitly: I spent 4 hours this morning contemplating my quarter-end mail merge, then another 2 hours compiling the data spreadsheet, and the final 2 hours printing the letters. 

I'm so tired that the idea of going out on a date is exhausting.  Being social is just out of reach. IM chat requests annoy me.   I had the chance to go for coffee today, and declined.  I had the chance for a wild night of debauchery last night with an old OKC acquaintance, and said Eh, I'm already in for the night, sorry.  

I do not know why I'm so tired. 

I'm tired of being tired.  

I want to sleep and wake up and want to be up.  

I want to leave the office satisfied as to some level of productive output.

I want to run unfettered. 

I want to go on wild dates on every wild, clear summer night of July.

I am tired of being this boring because I'm so tired.

I am now, for the record, going straight to bed.