Once in a great while a guy wakes up just plain growly. The overnight fire didn't hold. The coffee tastes bitter. The V8 lacks bite. All three yolks broke when you flipped them. There's just enough biscuit mix left for one tiny, measly bite. The view from the big south window is an insult to the eye, gray sky and snow already becoming dirty. The ancient Mac desktop is cranky.
Even the dog is standoffish.
So, no matter what crud you face in your life this morning, you should turn thankful eyes to whatever Heaven you believe in and express gratitude that you are somewhere other than here.
(The proposed cure involves a few hours in the loading shack. If it works, you'll be the first to know. If it doesn't I'll find other phraseology to continue sharing my fascinating self-pity with y'all.)