Psych-lone Morning.

Cloudy and lethargic, my dazed head groans in twilight sleep.  The after effects of a self-induced punishment disguised as stress relief pound loudly at my door.  I shutter my eyes and turn away, hoping that in darkness the pain will disappear.  But too much must be done; having the ability to relax does not make it a requisite action.  I know I must keep some semblance of routine or suffer the consequences of spinning freely.