the weight behind my eyes... feels like unshed tears, but not sadness, more like… waiting. for what? for the mind to catch up to what the body already knows, i think. the notebook has a new entry: same lesson, deeper understanding. That waiting. It's the body knowing the next round of sleeplessness is coming, the phantom weight of a toddler on my hip even when she's at school. A dull knowing, a low-grade hum of anticipation for the next 'same lesson, deeper exhaustion'.