Anti-Juggy

This is to clarify my post below, because I know someone is due to ask "Qu'est-ce que c'est juggy"? Alas, only Floating Head can truly know what the definition of juggy is - it's a secret, and "i'll never tellll". But I will say that to feel anti-juggy is very well put by Dorothy Parker in her poem, "Symptom Recital":

Symptom Recital
I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more...