I feel like Atlas. Sleep is elusive and the piling up of responsibilities is a burden I can no longer carry. My English is rusty and my bones are fickle from too much SMS-ing and mobile FB-ing. Washing the dishes and washing clothes and washing my brain with bits and tidbits of accounting is a modern struggle tantamount to pre-revolution days. I shall be resurrected after my Feasibility Study struggles. But at the moment, I am a sexy zombie bitch with extra layers of moisturizer to cover my extra large eyebags. Cheerio.