Irritated Memory
It is afternoon. I'm in my office sitting at my desk that is near the window. I have described this room many times before. Maybe someday I'll figure out which airfield it is. I seem to be in the same mood that I'm in now. My stomach hurts, I'm tired, irritable, and feeling somewhat bored. I'm sitting back at my chair staring at my work and sometimes out the window. I'm alone in the office. If my present situation is any clue as to how I was feeling then, I'd say I'm sick of politics and lack of common sense in how to take care of situations that should be easily solved. I hate waiting instead of being able to deal with the problem directly.

When I wonder what the problem was then, I get a quick flash of my red plane. I think they don't want me to fly, and I love to fly. The idea of staying on the ground takes away any joy that I have left.