The Haze

There is not enough time in the day. It's been established so that morning flies by faster than you can blink, and afternoon arrives soon after, with sunset snapping at its heels. The night hours seem to last the longest, the darkness stretching on into infinity, but disappearing, seemingly, in seconds, for time melts away when you are unconscious. And all that time you spend sleeping could be used to do something else, but when tiredness weighs down your lids and nestles into your brain, it creates a barrier between your thoughts, between your synapses, and everything becomes covered in a haze too thick to see through. So you slip away into a place where thoughts don't follow and awake to regret that you don't have all done that needed to be done.