I had exactly the opposite sort of day. I woke up and decided that I couldn't put off painting the kitchen ceiling any longer. I hate painting ceilings and I especially hate doing the second coat because it's so difficult to tell where you have already been. With a total lack of enthusiasm I seized my paint roller and mounted the step ladder. Eventually I reckoned I'd covered it all and I had an aching neck and right shoulder, so enough was enough. Then, of course there was the endless boring washing of the paint roller, brush and tray. In spite of my having slung dusts sheets around in a strategic manner, a fine spatter of white paint covered much of the worktops, so they had to be tackled with a green scourer. So from a feeling of miserable anticipation my mood had declined into bored irritability and fatigue.
A hot shower later and dressed in clean, non-paint-spattered jeans, I felt on top of the world and full of self-satisfaction.