Living dead girl

What am I doing in a darkened hotel room at eight o'clock on a Tuesday morning?  Shouldn't I be out running the seawall, which is only four lanes of traffic away from me?  I probably should.  My mind is kicking me in the ankles, and telling me to put this sitting aside for now.  This should be my time to go out, and take a look around at the morning.
I have been so thoroughly exhausted.  I didn't know it.  We arrived late Sunday afternoon, and stopped at a outdoor bar and grill to wait for our room.  I could see the ocean from where I sat, and I only wanted a beer to try to shake off the nerves from the horrible stress of traffic coming into the island.  I didn't think I would have a problem with the speeding vehicles, in multiple lanes, vying for their premium spot ahead of the pack.  I thought I was over the nervousness of driving without thinking of our two-year old accident when we found ourselves rolling completely over like a carnival ride.  But the nerves got the best of me, and I felt worse.
My beer didn't arrive before some food.  I wasn't interested in the food, but I was told to eat.  I thought it was strange that I could see the waves rolling to the shore, but couldn't hear them over the noise of the four lanes of traffic I had to look through to see the water.  We moved away from that area, and I thought we could get that drink in a quiet spot.  Unfortunately, the volume of the television bursting through tall speakers dashed any possibility of tranquility, and I was a wreck by the time we arrived at our room.  No matter.  I had already eaten, and proceeded to fall asleep.  Very early.  And slept very late the next morning.  All that with two drinks.
But I was still dragging on Monday.  Luckily, we found a place by the bay and sat quietly for two hours.  I scribbled some thoughts down, but mostly just sat still.  We came back to the hotel to get lunch and re-group.  I went to the pool and spent another two hours trying to nap.  I never fell asleep, but I've never been so inactive for such long periods of time.  So, by the time I cleaned up, we went to dinner.  It was perfect.  The restaurant was on the water, without any frenzy.  The drinks were cold, and the food appetizing.  I was finally beginning to uncoil.
I will see what we can be up to today.  I might have rested enough to feel less like a zombie, and a little more like a tourist on vacation.  A little extra time to sit might be the way to go.  I have an ocean to watch, a book to read, notes to jot down, and a brain less muddled.  And now, I realize, the hotel room isn't quite so darkened.  It's time to get out, and get busy with some more relaxing.
TT