Tiredness was set in my bones; the words out of my lips were halting and awkward. I can't, for the life of me, recall why I thought it was a good idea to tell a dirty joke in that state. That joke deserved a better setting, stage player and audience.
That was painful, I thought, wearily. Pondered for a bit whether I should care... then decided can't be arsed to. Still, there was an uneasiness. It reminded me of the old me. But I've come so far, a little voice protests.
Here is what I've learnt to live with, though; that part of me will never leave. All I had been doing is learning to control it a little better.