Look, I don't get it so much, either: I'm tired, tired enough that I have blown right through my alarm two out of the four mornings I've been back here, tired enough that I woke up with an uncomfortably short amount of time to spare before today was due to commece. I power on through, but as soon as I don't need to be powering on through, I seem to stop short pretty abruptly. It is that time of year, perhaps. But it matters to me that I took to my bed the moment I entered my apartment tonight. It's not despondency. It's just fatigue--a doneness without having finished.