Something about me was fundamentally wrong today.
I'd easily passed it off at having arisen at god-awful hundred this morning; the dream I was having was so visceral. I was composing magnificent shots with my camera, and editing them brilliantly, in an almost 3D perspective. They were things of beauty. Then I awoke. I was stunned none of it was real, but this reality overtook me slowly, and sadly. I tried to crawl back into the dream by shrugging back under the covers which had loosened around me. It didn't work.
This wakefulness was entirely unjustified. I blamed it on the Perocet I'd taken two hours earlier - blindly, as the pain from my knee startled me awake once again in the middle of the night. Only, I'd stayed up until well after midnight, mindlessly staring at at unblinking phone for a whirlwind of unrelated reasons, some one which undoubtedly led me to my dream; the dream which was stolen away.
I laid in bed as the frustratingly early time-modified dawn crept around me. Eventually, I rose, though I don't remember dressing, and at the appointed time, dialed into work and started going through the motions. Yet something was definitely amiss. At some point I consumed a bowl of cold cereal - an unusual breakfast for me to be sure, but again blamed upon the cruelty of the early morning.
Then later, as I was wandering the kitchen trying to sate an appetite I don't usually have, it dawned on me. All this nihilism, this disregard for normalcy - I'd forgotten to drink coffee this morning.
And that has made all the difference.