someone just sneezed really loudly in the hallway

this morning on the way to campus before 6 am, I thought about the following:
(and then consequently wrote some version of this into an email message to a good friend)

I’m tired. I’m tired of being tired and then not sleeping at night. I’m tired of not having the desire to get out of bed in the morning and of searching the landscape of my sheets for a way to reinvent motivation. I’m tired of feeling like I won’t make it or that I don’t even care to try. This might be the first time in my life where I’ve felt like there was a pretty good chance that I just might not make it. Because I don't even care. I haven't started my projects. And any stab in that direction renders words meaningless -- as if my head were made of fine shreds of cotton candy.