[ WP ] Write a day in the life of a person who lives in a world where no one sleeps .

Jill hated her job, but she knew she could n't do any better. Her mom was always giving her shit for not going to college, but not everyone has the right kind of brain for that sort of thing. She had trouble paying attention because her mind was always wandering. She was always fantasizing about worlds that did n't exist, monsters and magic and adventures beyond sitting behind a cash register in twenty-hour stretches. 
 
 Jill mostly hated her job because it was the source of her temptation. Every day she sold little capsules full of something she wanted very much, a controlled substance known as Rest-EZ. When ingested, the user was transported into their own mind, into total relaxation. For a few hours, the troubles of the world were reduced to dullness, and everything was n't so constant. Sometimes Jill worked three days straight with tiny breaks for meals, and during those days she watched her customers transport themselves to the absolute bliss of nothingness. 
 
 She was no stranger to the capsules. Citizens were allowed ten hours worth a month, and she generally used up her allotment right away, all in the first day. The effect was indescribable. It was like a door into her imagination, a way for her to experience all her stories and fantasies. She was an adventurer. She slayed dragons and saved princes. She felt happy instead of constantly, constantly drained. 
 
 Every day she handed out the pills and knew the security cameras were watching. She knew that she'd be fired for taking too much, and, worse than being fired, she'd be arrested, and, worse than being arrested, she could get hurt. She'd heard the stories. People taking eleven hours of pills and never recovering, just hovering in that space between life and death. The pills were controlled for a reason, the news and medical journals and her employers assured her. Citizens were lucky to have those ten hours, and should never want for more. 
 
 But - she often felt right on the verge of something, on the pills. She often felt moments away from transcendence before coming back to reality. She felt like one more pill would open another, stranger door to a life so much better than the one she spent wasting at work. All day as she mechanically processed orders, she imagined ways to trick the cameras and take the risk of overdose. 
 
 Her grandmother said that a long time back, things were different. She said that her own grandmother told tales beyond Jill's wildest fantasies. She said that people shut down completely for hours and hours in a day, no pills, just a natural process. People mostly worked nine or so hours and spent nine or so hours lying down on soft things and letting their consciousness slip away. Jill's parents said Grandma was old and crazy and did n't know what she was saying. 
 
 What a wonder, Jill thought, wistfully. She bet every time they came back to reality, they were totally different people returning to a totally different world. She bet every day felt like a gift, instead of a grueling, never-ending treadmill of misery. She bet every day people thanked a higher power for letting them return to life instead of ushering them into death. 
 
 Jill envied the people who died while taking Rest-EZ. She envied that they'd peacefully slip away. Jill figured she'd die like most people, like her grandmother, eyes wide open, in excruciating pain. 

