Quest for Happy


When one has a bad day, one that never seems to end, they go to their comforts. Mine are complex carbohydrates and the antics of Phil Dunphy and family. When this proved ineffective – I ate too much and Phil was too wholesome. I felt like a devil.

Still in search of comfort, I went to the internet. The internet is a bad place filled with bad people. It’s currently ruled by an orange troll who – every 3 minutes for the last 8 years – has subjected humanity to his peculiar brand of abject stupidity cum incoherent rambling interlaced with lies that only a shoe might buy. So you can understand my wariness.  

I watched a GIF of a pretty girl winking at me, but this didn’t do what it seems to have been meant to do. I watched it over and over again from a plethora of women and at a number of speeds and yet, at the end of the winking, I was still bummed out. Seems the world falling apart at the seams and being overwhelmed at work can’t be fixed by a woman whose name I don’t know winking at a camera. Stop the presses.

I looked up on the internet how to get happy again, but all it did was suggest a bunch of deep breathing exercises and self-reflection which was, quite frankly, the thing I was trying to avoid.

Left with no other alternatives, I went outside.

Outside is scary. I don’t know if you know this, but outside is where other people are who aren’t your dog, girlfriend, cat, or TV. On TV and the internet, I can shut people off and go do other things like read books or hide in my bathroom. Outside was just chockfull of people who wanted to be near me, but not to talk to me. No, they wanted to talk to my dog. My dog, not understanding that my current state of mind was in hide-and-don’t-seek mode, wagged her tail and welcomed attention and whatever treats older Czechs carry around in their pockets. This led to conversations. Who has conversations when they want to feel better? Psychos, that’s who.

It seems that there are a great deal of people on the internet who seem to make themselves feel better by doing nice things for others. They must be agile enough to do these nice things with one hand since the other hand is holding a phone to make sure they film themselves being nice and thus feeling better. I don’t have this sort of agility – I once tried to take a picture of my left ankle and ended up at the doctor with a cerebral hernia. In any event, I thought I could test a theory which proposes that one might attain a notch-up in happiness while doing something nice for others and not filming themselves for proof. Radical, I know. But desperation had become my roommate.

The dog and I sought out people who were sad. I tried to buy a homeless guy a hotdog, but it turned out he was the hotdog salesperson outside his hotdog shop having a cigarette. After swearing off hotdogs, I approached on old woman who was navigating a large cart up a sidewalk. I offered to help her push her cart until I saw that it was filled with newspapers and parts of baby’s dolls. The dog tried to say hello, but I frog-hopped her away as quickly as possible. The dog must have smelled something on that women, because she and I were on the same page. We were at a loss until it dawned on us. Animals.

You see, the internet is also filled with self-shot videos of people saving animals’ lives. I needed to find an animal in distress. There’s a pond near my home and it’s an epicenter of animal activity. Besides the ducks who live in it, it’s also frequented by dogs, birds, and a few squirrels. I prayed and prayed that one of them had been the victim of our horrid plastics usage. A squirrel in a Gatorade bottle perhaps. Or a duck with its legs stuck inside Actimel bottles.

We reached the pond, but no such luck. The natural life there seemed friggin harmonious. What’s with that? I removed a dog poop bag and sized up a duck, but he figured out what was going on and zoomed far away from me. Where is a dolphin with a six pack holder around its fin when you need him? A bear stuck in a dumpster. Nope. Nada.

Alas, I had to go home. But I felt better. Maybe it was all the walking around or the cardio I got running away from the homeless hotdog guy or the doll lady, but I felt OK. My attempts to kidnap a duck have thus far been overlooked by local authorities. Another reason to feel good.

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