Two friends were mid-conversation when they ambushed me. "John, when you wake up in the morning, are you generally in a good mood or in a bad mood?"
I had to think about it. That morning, the first thing I'd thought of was: I go into Redmond today. Who do I have lunch with? Ah. yes. Dorkass. Great! I haven't seen her in months.
"A good mood," I replied. "I tend to concentrate on whatever the highlight of that particular day will be."
"Jesus christ!" Jill sneered. "That's so gay."
Why? It's just a question of emphasis. Life is, of course, a steaming sack of assholes, chores and other unpleasantness, but every day, I do something fun for myself. I naturally focus on that.
"It's so...pop psychology."
It is?
Jill is one of those people. Being depressed is her "thing." It's what identifies her. Rather, it's how she chooses to identify herself. "My life is horrible," says the healthy, wealthy mother of an adorable child in her funky new home. "Just look at my life. You wouldn't be depressed?"
No. No, I wouldn't. Depression is something I tend to reserve for unimagined tragedies. How about you, Justin?
"No, I'm actually a pretty happy guy," he said.
"I hate you both."
I was still wondering about the pop psychology remark when Jill pressed on. "What if you have no highlight of your day?"
Since she was sitting in a bar having beers with her buddies, I thought this a telling, not to mention vaguely insulting, remark. Was she not with her friends? Did she not play with her kid? "You didn't do one fun thing today?" I replied. "Not one positive thing for yourself?"
"Like what?"
I mentioned the friends, the kid.
"That's stupid. Those aren't things to look forward to. Tell me what my highlight should be."
Her perpetual foul mood was starting to make a whole lot of sense. She works damned hard for that mood. I suggested that perhaps, if she took a break from doggedly chasing misery, happiness might naturally occur. The suggestion was, of course, deemed stupid.