Some days just suck.

The language isn't that elegant, but I have thought and thought and thought about this and finally decided that was really the only way to say it.

Some days just suck.

My day started with something that if it weren't part of a bad day wouldn't even be worth mentioning. On the ninth morning of my diet, I weighed myself and saw that for the first time, I hadn't lost any weight yesterday. This was no big deal at all. I'm still down 16 pounds in eight days, and if I didn't have four or five months of dieting ahead of me to reach my goal, I would feel absolutely great about 16 pounds in eight days.

Still ...

I'm still struggling with my sleep, and that is getting very frustrating. When I upload the data from my armband, what it's showing is that before I get to sleep for good, it's usually 5 or 6 a.m. Before that I'm either sleeping restlessly or not at all.

I didn't really feel motivated just to walk, so I thought I would play nine holes of golf in the afternoon. Since it had been raining, rental carts had to stay on the cart path. I figured that meant I would get in plenty of walking.

[caption id="attachment_1616" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Bad day on the links"]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/20101210_8.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-1616" title="20101210_8" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/20101210_8-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

The only problem was that the ground really was wet. Since I'm still trying to get my stroke back after four months of not playing, I have been relying on a lot of low line drives and, dare I say it, glorified grounders. But with wet ground, instead of my shots going 180-200 yards, they were going 110-120. I started by triple-bogeying the tough par four that starts the course and then double-bogeying the par three second hole.

Yuck.

Since no one was behind me, I went back and started over. This time I started with a double bogey and a bogey, but what was really depressing about it was that I had yet to hit even one shot that felt good. I moved on to the third hole -- the first par five -- and I hit four mediocre shots that still left me short of the green.

At that point, I picked up my ball, drove back, turned in the cart and went to the grocery store.

The next few hours were sort of uneventful. but by mid-evening, Nicole and I were arguing about something I still don't understand. Anyone who has been married for more than a few years knows that these things sometimes just come out of nowhere, but nobody is more tenacious in these "nothing" arguments than my strong-willed wife.

So I'm sitting in my office writing this, and the only good thought running through my mind is that in less tha

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