Smile. No a little bit wider. Show me some teeth. Thatttts it. Feeling better
already are you? What do you mean ‘no’? You mean to tell me that grinning and bearing it doesn’t make all your troubles go away? Well there goes my theory out the window.
So what exactly does make us happy? Bucket of chicken? Sometimes. Glass of wine, or in my case make that seven. That usually works. Falling in love? Unlikely to be honest, you spend half the time extatic and the other half suicidally depressed. Or maybe that’s just me again. Watching your team win a match? Though I’m not sure if that’s so much happiness as it is momentary elation.
Money might help. I know they say it doesn’t, but perhaps whoever these ‘they’ are have never owned an Audi R8. Don’t be under any illusion that I have, but take it from me I’d find it pretty hard to be depressed in one of those babies. Maybe I’m just more shallow than your average person (or more honest, I’m not sure).
Expensive cars aside however, I think we’ve got this happiness business all wrong. Most people seem to think we have to be happy all the time, well I personally can’t think of anything more exhausting. See what you’ve actually got to do is make sure you have enough good moments in life to out-balance the incredibly (excuse my language but it’s needed) shit ones.
These days everyone thinks to be happy we need to prove how great our lives are all the time. Its common knowledge if your facebook, twitter, bbm and linkedin statuses don’t indicate what a blast you’re having, the chances are you’re probably at home bored. And if you’re not, well everyone else thinks you are, so you might as well be.
Now call me crazy but maybe, just maybe if everyone spent a little more time living life instead of updating about it, we’d start noticing how great we’ve all really got it.
And what really makes me happy? The little things. Going to buy a pair of shoes and my debit card not being declined. A guy I like texting when he says he will. McDonald’s accidentally forgetting to charge me for my chips. Making my friends laugh, (with me, not at me). And of course, eating half the contents of my fridge and still being able to wear skinny jeans without it being ironic.