Time out
She feels someone keeps taking up her time, and she doesn't notice until the tiredness runs over her body, capturing her mind and giving her cramps.

She doesn't know where her hours go, all those days that used to look like near future, where did April go? Is May still out there? She tries to grab the next fifteen minutes and then they disappear, too.

She slept for four straight hours on the couch yesterday, waking up to an empty head and wondering how it happened. She answers the phone and someone on the other side has already made plans for her, which will take up most of the weekend. She doesn't want to complain. But she doesn't want time to slip away like this. She guesses she's just getting older.

She can't have it all, this she knows. She'd like to have a fresh bouquet of hours to make the apartment shine, to have long talks with her boyfriend, to sit down and write, to have drinks with friends. She'd like that. And she's on her way to achieving it. But time isn't running fast enough.