Trying to write

From yesterday:

She was tired. Jesus God she was tired. It was that kind of tired that numbs the brain and cossets the heart. You could also call it being drained, though Ruth never used that expression because it reminded her of her mother, who always talked about how drained she was, no matter what she had just spent time doing. She remembered being on the beach in Hawaii, a rare family vacation, and her mother crying because she was drained.

No, Ruth did not want to be like that. She also didn’t want to think of herself as a container that was either full or empty, replenished or drained. She didn’t want to see the world in that binary way, where you were at either one extreme or another. Lucky for her, though, due to heredity that was exactly the way she saw it sometimes. Life at the opposite ends, no middle ground to be had. Polarity.