It starts slowly.
An off day, a nagging feeling of exhaustion.
The next day will be better, you think. Tomorrow you can catch up, get back on track.
Tomorrow, you start to think, maybe you’re not getting enough sleep. You just need the weekend, you’ll sleep in and be right as rain.
But each day, it’s harder to get up. Harder to walk, harder to work, every moment on the verge of collapse.
There isn’t time for this, not here and not now. You have schedules to meet, deadlines to keep.
Why does it feel like the hardest thing is simply not giving up?