you don't notice the pitying looks until it's 9 in the morning and you're halfway done with your third cup of gas station coffee you barely even notice it then
so you're dragging your feet across the pavement, eyes mostly shut, carrying a briefcase in your left hand and a scalding cup of caffeine powder + water in your right it's not that you're tired you manage to get a good four hours most nights it's that you cannot focus everything around you is more than a little blurry red edges on your vision and shadows somehow pixelated
you're stumbling across the street when you realize that somewhere along the way you managed to finish that third cup and your hand is uselessly gripping empty air it falls to your side and it takes a few steadying breaths to deal with the headrush that always accompanies such a revelation
you have an agreement but you don't know who with it's someone you met years ago in a hospital eyes bright and idealistic
you don't remember the agreement either but it was something important and you remember that