How are you today? Feeling good? Happy? If you answered yes, statistically you're a liar. Only 1 in 3 Americans is happy. The other two are reading this while practicing noose knots. It's a dismal scene. I can't account for all the reasons a person isn't happy from day to day -- lots of people hate their jobs (statistically speaking, Americans hate their jobs the most), plus some dude suggested that only 17 percent of all marriages are happy ones -- but there's clearly a lot to be unhappy about. So what the hell makes someone happy?
The short answer to what makes people happy is me shrugging while I type this. I don't know what you want out of life. Is it me? Do I make you happy? Does the idea of me in your shower put a smile on your face? Soft, soapy, and supple me, lathering up my man-bosom while I playfully frolic in the spray? I assume so, but clearly I can't shower for all of you or I'd get pruny. There must be more realistic happiness goals we can shoot for, some down-to-earth things that we're overlooking in our day-to-day lives that can help perk up these dismal statistics that make it seem like everyone is a droopy-frowned sad sack. Stop moping about! Enjoy some of these happy good fun times!
There's an old saying that goes "Tomorrow is another day" that has the good fortune of being true simply because it's a statement of fact, just like "Ham is delicious" and "I thought you'd think it was funny." But it means you get to redo things, and it's usually said to someone who just got shit on in the cosmic sense of the word. Or maybe the literal one; that's always a downer, too. But how does one transition to tomorrow from today? Sweet, sweet sleep.
The best cure for a terrible day, assuming your terrible day doesn't involve you running for your life throughout the night, is one perfect night of sleep. And even if tomorrow is worse than today, even if the shitstorm rises to a crescendo of foul bastardry that makes you curse the day your father forgot to use a condom, for a pristine moment, when you're on a firm but not-too-firm mattress, a soft pillow, a comforting blanket -- damn, that's the stuff.
"Tomorrow I'm having my colon removed, but tonight is A-OK!"
Sleep is a process of releasing yourself, of letting go. You yawn, you go limp, you pop a fart or two, and you relax. It's telling the day that came before it that you're done. This is not to be taken for granted, as we so often do. Sometimes this is the only thing that stands between you and homicidal insanity, and that's not necessarily even hyperbole. How many tragedies have been averted by a good night's sleep? How many fights have been cooled off, how many feelings spared?
There's a reason we tell people to sleep on things, or sleep them off. Off and on, sleep goes both ways -- it's the bi-curious mood enhancer that everyone from the richest czar to the smelliest fishmonger can enjoy. And maybe that's why we take it for granted -- because everyone does it every day. We're so caught up in the process of a five-day workweek that every night is just a stopgap before we return to the grind. It's hard to just stop and think "I'd fuck this bed if it were a person because it's so loving and supportive and soft and wonderful in every way." Think of me when you sleep tonight. As if I had to remind you.
Friendly co-nudity is one of the great joys of life. Now, that 83 percent of people in unhappy marriages may disagree, but if they're being honest, they remember that first time. That exhilarating first time. And it's true that you can't ever have your flower back, but that's not even relevant. Sex is better when you know that Tab A fits into slots B, C, and D and how much pressure to use in each one. No, the real thrill is that initiation of a sexual relationship with someone new. Because that first time, barring your extremely crippled emotions and deadened heart, is a thrill ride. Each new person resets that clock. You feel the fear of potential rejection and the pulse-pounding joy of seeing new boobs. God, that's great. I bet it's the same for ladies or gay fellows who probably exclaim something like "My, that's a swell dong" internally and proceed to whack it about in a thoroughly enjoyable way.
Whack it good!
One of the most common things you hear about marriages and how they go stale is that the sex gets boring, which for the sexless among us is a pretty hard concept to wrap your head around, but if you try to imagine eating nothing but pizza and beer every night for 10 years, maybe it gets a little easier to understand. Maybe. Supposing you never take the pizza from behind or whatever. But that's also why that first time is the pinnacle of sexual awesomeness and probably, sadly, why unsavory types elect to have illicit affairs. It's swapping your pizza for a 10-pack of tacos that like it when you choke them a little. That's a good meal.
For unclear reasons, even in 2014 we still have a sort of sexual stigma, mostly against women who enjoy sex, especially if it's frequent and with multiple partners. This, to me, implies a personal sexual dysfunction of the bitchy whiner, rather than the person who enjoys festive boinking, but what do I know? I know that if you're not spreading disease or children and you're enjoying it with another responsible, consenting adult, then anyone who complains about your sex life is probably an asshole. Stop calling people names for fucking, yo. It makes you an asshole. And besides, we can all agree that sex feels pretty damn good, so stop raining on other people's parades and go have some for yourself. Or just get naked with a new friend for that tingly, all-over zing feeling. It's delightful!