Some nights, tired isn't the same as ready for sleep
By 11pm most nights, she was exhausted. Not tired in a vague way — genuinely worn out, the kind of tired that should make sleep effortless. And yet she'd lie there, mind still running through the day, waiting for something to switch off that never quite did.
It wasn't every night. Some nights were fine. But enough nights weren't that it started to feel less like bad luck and more like a pattern she didn't understand.
She'd wake up the next day functional, but never quite rested. Coffee helped get her through the morning. By the time evening came around again, she'd tell herself tonight would be different. Some nights it was. A lot of nights it wasn't.
Eventually she stopped waiting for the problem to fix itself and started paying closer attention to her evenings — what she was doing, and more importantly, what she wasn't doing, in the hour or two before bed.