Why Is 'I'M So Tired' A Common Expression In Storytelling?

My wife's first love was bound to an "overachiever" system—every ounce of exhaustion he racked up from grinding away at work got transferred straight to me. He pulled seven straight all-nighters to land a multi-million-dollar deal and became a legend in the industry. Meanwhile, I ended up in the ER with heart failure. When I tried to explain it to my wife, she shot me a look of pure disgust. "You're just born lazy," she snapped. "You can't stand seeing him succeed at such a young age, so you make up some sick fairy tale to accuse him." After that, every late night he pulled chipped away at my body. First came nervous exhaustion, then organ failure—until I was hanging on by a thread. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn't find a thing. A few even hinted I might be suffering from paranoid delusions. Then, to get his company listed on the stock exchange, he locked himself in his office for two weeks straight. I wound up dead from overexertion in my own room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night of his very first all-nighter. This time, I bolted the door, pulled out a full strip of sleeping pills, and smiled. "Time to sleep."

My dad always calls me a lazy bum. It is because I often fall asleep without warning. I sleep in class, while eating, and even while crossing the street. My homeroom teacher, Yvonne Smith, suggests that he take me to a hospital for an examination. But Dad scoffs and says, "He's just staying up all night playing on his phone." After that, he confiscates my phone and removes the lock from my bedroom door. Every time I get sleepy, he slaps me. I don't want to be hit, and I don't want to make Dad angry. So, I start pinching my thighs, pulling out my hair, and even rubbing hand sanitizer spray under my nose to stay awake. But whenever the overwhelming drowsiness hits, nothing can stop it. On the day of the final exams, Dad happens to be one of the invigilators. I bite my lip until it bleeds and silently beg myself inwardly, "Just this once, please stay awake." Still, I fail to fight off the sleepiness. Suddenly, someone flips over my desk. The chair tips with it, and I crash to the floor. My temple slams into the corner of the desk, and darkness instantly floods my vision. Dad stands over me, furious and disappointed. "Zach Davies, are you really so obsessed with sleeping that you don't even care about your final exams? If you're that lazy, then stay down there and keep sleeping!" I lie sprawled across my exam paper as my vision slowly fades away. Dad, I think I am going to sleep for a very long time…

I was always sleepy when I was working. If I were working an eight-hour shift, I would sleep the entire shift away. Initially, I thought that I was too tired. My boss only fined me because I was the top sales performer. It was not until I got caught dozing off for the 38th time last month that I realized something was wrong. I scheduled a medical appointment. However, on the way to the hospital, I died from a car accident. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day the new male colleague first joined us. In the past, I had also started to suffer from lethargy on the same day. I suspected he had something to do with my symptoms. Hence, I started to stalk him in secret. As expected, during lunch time, I caught him and my girlfriend conspiring against me. “Once I plant this sleepy bug on Nick, you can transfer your sleepiness to him.” Justin Smith wrapped his arm around my girlfriend Heather Reid’s waist. He said in a fawning tone, “Heather, you’re the best. Once Nick gets fired for oversleeping, I can take his position!” I sneered when I saw them acting intimately. They did not know that I had returned to the past!

I have a severe case of logorrhea. Only speaking makes me feel alive. My classmates all call me a freak, but Marvin Britt is the only one willing to listen to me. One day, I bring some homemade soup over to see him, only to catch him holding his junior's hand. "Lexie, your voice is so lovely, unlike my wife at home. She sounds like a squawking duck. It's exhausting." My hands shake so violently that I drop the thermal flask. The commotion angers a nearby madman, who forces a bottle of boiling water down my throat. With my mouth full of blood and blisters, I realize I need proof. I send Marvin—a lawyer—a frantic voice note to accompany me to the police station for evidence. Marvin shoots back a single word—"Noted". Of course. He doesn't even listen to it, as usual. He used to reply to everything I said with voice notes at least a minute long. But we hit the seven-year itch, and he's sick of my endless talking. Leaving the hospital, I stare at my diagnosis of permanent mutism and laugh bitterly. He must be thrilled. His world is finally quiet.

During orientation training, the class belle, everyone’s favorite, led the entire class to protest against the orientation leader. The orientation leader threatened to make us run as punishment, but she took on everyone’s training load by herself. But in reality, she shifted all the exhaustion onto me. She ran 30 miles while carrying weights without batting an eye. Then, she told the orientation leader that she was willing to take on all the class’s remaining orientation training duties by herself. From that point on, she became the darling of the entire class. Meanwhile, I was exhausted beyond measure, was frequently hospitalized, and was late to training. It affected our class’s honor roll standing. I got yelled at by the whole class. When I explained the situation to everyone, they dismissed me as a nutcase. “You’ve only been in training for a few days! How could you be this exhausted? I think you’re just faking it.” “Are you just jealous that Eira Yard is in better shape than you, looks better than you, and is even more popular than you?” In utter despair, I confronted Eira, but she casually changed into her orientation training uniform. “Please step aside. I’m going to run the final weighted cross-country race on behalf of the entire school. I don’t have time to mess around with you.” Once she was done with the run in the 104-degree heat, her expression remained cool and collected. I, on the other hand, felt as if my limbs had been severed. My organs failed, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of orientation training. This time, I beat everyone to it and reported to the orientation leader. “I’ll run for the whole class.”

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda. For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone." He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you." They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table. The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer." His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow." This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation. A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset. After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight. I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door. Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?" Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over. "Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood." Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?" "It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?" Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times. In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me. And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.