Originally written 21 November 2004.
The green display of the clock read 2 a.m. when I woke up, angry. I tossed and turned for the next three hours, designing ways of expressing my irritation over the rudeness I’d felt. There was a torrent of emotion I wanted to release, and had she been there then I would have been more than happy to express it.
I finally slept, drugged by the effects of Tylenol PM, sometime around 5 in the morning. My plans of roaming central London Sunday morning went down somewhere with the pills, and the post-wakefulness drugged state left me dull-witted. When she called sometime after 11 I was curt, similarly when I saw her downstairs in the lobby as we wandered about down toward the zoo and back to the hotel. She sensed the foul mood right away.
The funk, as it usually does, leaves me silent when I should have spoken. But by the time had come for me to speak my peace, I’d forgotten the words.