The analysis of my recent trouble continues.
Thus far I have observed that I was rude to the sailors who lined up the main mast for sick call this morning, I was short with Vasserman when he was late with my breakfast, I was sullen whilst instructing my assistants in the airing out of the lower decks. I sulked while observing the drying of the ballast, I huffed and puffed profusely as I made my daily log entries and I was utterly distracted while I paid my scheduled visits to the sick men in their hammocks. I took no joy in the sighting of a distant ship that was thought to be a great potential prize, yet felt the sting of disappointment when we lost sight of her later.
What is worse, I believe my troubles have garnered the notice of Captain Freymann and the officers, I am certain I caught them discussing it this morning on the quarterdeck. They seemed embroiled in a great conversation, then as I approached, they all seemed to stop speaking simultaneously in the most awkward fashion.
To be sure, they have all been uncommon kind in their attempts to draw me out from my worries. I have declined multiple invitations to dinner and supper in the great cabin with Captain Freymann, instead preferring to dine alone. I have barely played cards with the gentlemen in the wardroom, and when I have, it has only served to annoy me. The companionship of my fellows aboard ship, which I normally find quite enjoyable, has simply not done to suit me of late.