So I did without a little sleep here and there. The extra hours were great for productivity—those hours after the wee one went to bed and before the sun came in to bid me do the Devil’s work at Big Name Corporation. Driving was the hardest part. Icy cold a/c spewing from the vents in December, shaking my head back and forth to rattle out the snooze spiderwebs. Acid metal in July. Windows all the way down as I yanked my aching, splintering bones through another bitch of a day.
I figured it out. How to not sleep. The best thing ever, because I could just keep working. Burning my candle at both ends ’til what I had left was a puddle of flaming wax searing the skin from my hands. It was a breakthrough. Everyone left me be when they realized I’d discovered that magical secret. They were obviously jealous of me.
It wasn’t until the men from the bank came to collect the things from my house that I fully understood the permanence of what I’d done.