General sense of grievance and irritation toward the world at large.
220 pages of Dickens to read before I go to bed, which would normally be a fine thing, but my eyes are all swollen and gritty because of the pollen and smoke in the air. And Penguin's print seems to be getting smaller, or is it that my eyes are getting older? (Sidenote that dates me more or less accurately: I miss the orange spines.)
Kanbei's looking a little unhappy, himself: