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Rest
It's finally Friday. I have barely slept this week. Every night has been bad dreams, or sleep would not even come to me. I probably look like a dumpster fire. There are bags under my eyes, my face lost color, and holding a conversation is way harder than it should be. I look like a zombie and act like one too.
Owen doesn't look much better. "Have you had a hard time sleeping too?" I ask him.
"Yeah, it's been a rough week."
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