Touching the pulse.

The daily routine sometimes tires, too much. 😪

Sometimes I wake up, I prepare for the class of the 7am, to leave an hour before to be able to take the transport in time and thus avoid being late to the university.
The cold of the morning, the tail of restless people to reach their destinations, children crying, adults arguing for enter first or to stay outside the transport, once inside the same, the hustle and bustle of people in the morning: some do not speak for asleep, falling from sleep, others on the other hand almost screaming on any conversation, simply because that is their tone of voice, or maybe it is some fight between elderly and/or pregnant women.
Finally free of the transport! The early arrival to the university, almost alone completely, until I arrive and magically appears the rest of the students and the people who do their work there. It comes then the classes of the hour of the morning, in which I try as much as possible to pay attention, however I am defeated by the sleep on the desk, waking up at the end and I have lost the explanation total. I endure a couple of serious hours, the noon, starving because I did not have enough time to make lunch to take, waiting there the classes of the hours afternoon, in which I try not to fall asleep, or to lend at least a little attention.
Finally it's time to g home, tired, passing the same hive with public transport, only a little bit more slight, since my check out time, is the start time of few. Automatically get to find a way to feed my stomach, days when I have to cook are the hardest. To later begin my duties from the afternoon until bedtime to sleep "early ", where it is mission impossible to have Internet, having videos on YouTube to see, I ended up sleeping at 1 in the morning. To get up early the next day and wonder if I still have enough pulse to follow, if I'm still alive.

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