Today is one of those mornings that test a man's will to survive. It would seem easiest and best to somehow curl into the fetal position and never return from it. Momma take me back to the womb. Momma rejected me a long time ago; or did I reject her? The booze was flowing freely back then, so I can't really tell you. All I can tell you is that we are where we are, we land where we land and the best thing that we can do is just dust ourselves off and get on with it. This morning will pass. A million mornings like it have passed already. I'm used to feeling like shit. Like the band Black Flag once sang, "Depression got a hold of me. Depression, man I got to break free."

What sucks about mornings like this is that there is no specific reason for my ailment. Nothing has changed from the night or day before, when things were pretty much normal, except maybe for a day or two of mania. Is mania followed by depression in certain personality types?

Hey, how about Tiger? Another win, another $670,000. I wonder if he gets depressed?