The Last Thing I Needed First Thing This Morning

I laid in bed with my eyes opened. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned for half an hour, thinking about everything that the future holds. When I realized that I wasn't going to get any sleep, I got out of bed and decided to do something productive.

I pulled out my laptop and started to type my psychology paper. 30 minutes later, I realized that I wasn't writing anything related to psych. I was writing down my feelings about college. I didn't realize how terrified I was to be moving into the future. I didn't know what it would hold for me. I didn't even know what I wanted to do with my life. I feel like I have to make a decision now before I graduate.

I sighed and turned off my laptop. Obviously, I'm not going to get any work done. I rubbed my eyes. I sighed again.

I haven't been sleeping well for the last couple of days. I was too tired to deal with the Adam/Haylie situation. Whatever they're hiding from me, I'm just going to let this one go.

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I hit the snooze button 3 times before dragging myself out of bed. I had finally drifted off to sleep at 3 in the morning. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and stumbled downstairs. Of course, I almost tripped on my long pajama pants and almost broke my neck. Luckily, I caught myself before damaging myself.

I stumbled into the kitchen where there was a plate of pancakes waiting for me on the breakfast table.

"Morning, Mom," I mumbled. "Thanks." I drenched my pancakes with syrup.

"Morning, sweetie," she said, chirpily. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Not really," I said, taking a bite of my pancakes.. "A couple hours."

"Hopefully, you can get a couple more hours tonight," she said. The phone rang. "I'll get it."

I nodded and watched her leave the room in search of our phone. I took another bite out of my pancakes and decided to put more syrup. I'm going to need the sugar today to keep me awake. I finished my pancakes and set my plate in the sink. I went into the living room and heard my mom crying.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked her, worried.

"Honey, Uncle Mark had a stroke last night," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.