In my head after a great punt I'm absolutely fucking gorgeous, every female I see is desperate to suck me off at a moments notice and every good looking woman is flirting with me outrageously, I am capable of anything and god forbid anyone in a meeting after I've shagged a couple of stunning prossies, they have no chance of winning the negotiation, I'm invincible, even pleasant to the mother in law for at least 24 hours.
On the other hand, if its all gone tits up and the Romanian bitches have been thirty odd rather than twenty something with bodies that have gone further south than Brighton, bad breath and poor hygiene the feeling veers viciously between violent anger, guilt and "what's it all about."
There isn't really a middle ground, no such thing in my punting universe as a "meh", it's black or white, brilliant or shit.