Coromandel after a sleepless night.
Sleep has been a stranger lately. I'm averaging three hours a night, waking up frequently in a dual state of bodily pain and mental frustration. Once I've dragged myself up off the mattress, the labor of getting myself showered and dressed seems as arduous as traversing a mountain range. Once the deed is done, I want only comfort-- something to cushion my bruised and aching self. Today it came in the form of Coromandel, the most sympathetic of patchouli fragrances (and one that's in it for the long haul, unlike Monegal's rather uneven version). To those who stand outside of the screen, Coromandel projects a graceful vulnerability, a softness akin to angora-- but in actual fact, she's all backbone. And after the nights I've been having, I need her. Oh, how I need her.