Food and sleep are my holy grail. (Sort of. Despite not being Dan Brown, I don't care about inaccuracies.) I can never have them when I need them. I think the worst time is two in the night, when even the roaring from my stomach cannot keep me awake.
Thus goes the life of a hapless intern, who, as the saying goes, is overworked and underpaid. Not for long, maybe. A huge maybe.
It kills me that slaving for perfect strangers who don't know me from Adam leaves me with absolutely no energy to lift a finger to help my mom, who thinks me her entire world. It makes me feel incredibly guilty. So guilty that I can't even imagine 'borrowing' the lovely sari I bought her.
Sometimes, I wonder about what it was like to be normal. I can't remember.