I'm F*@#ing Happy, OK?

Even if I can’t articulate how or why. And that's the funny thing about happiness.

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This is the author, happy. Photo by his wife.

My wife and I were sitting in a sunny spot in the backyard drinking coffee on a chilly winter day a few months back. It was a gorgeous morning. Life was good. I made some grousing comment about a contractor who’d done a lousy job on some routine work for us many months ago.

“You grumpy?” she asked.
“No, I’m good.”
“You seem grumpy.”
“Nope,” I said. “I’m happy. This is me happy. I’m f*cking happy, okay?”

Happiness is one of the strangest human emotions, frustratingly elusive, totally ill-defined, and rarely achieved by pursuit. I’ve written a lot about it over the years, and still I’m not sure exactly how to even describe what it feels like to be happy, or to be unhappy for that matter.

It’s easier to explain joy or sadness, boredom, dissatisfaction, disappointment, even anxiety. But happiness, well, I just know that even on a day like today — when I’m in a bit of a funk trying to finally write this story whose seed was planted on that chilly winter day — I am still happy, even if I can’t articulate how or why.

But I must try…