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 really gets to you?
What do you do when you feel frustrated and need a reprieve from life's challenges?
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