Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. That is my substitute for a pistol and a ball.
- Herman Melville, Moby Dick
Consider your "hypers" as well as what Melville considers the "hypos." What really gets to you?
What do you do when you feel frustrated and need a reprieve from life's challenges?
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