What will happen next? Tomorrow is more interesting than today. So is yesterday for that matter. People who scold you to live for today are themselves living for any other day than today, that much is obvious. Life is precious but not right this minute, only later, in gauzy hindsight, or earlier, as an insipid dream of future happiness. I am very happy right now, this moment, practically ecstatic, but now? Not so much. Whoops here it comes again. I surge with regularity, sort of the emotional analogue to the way my ass tingles when I get my hair cut. But then I forget these surges and tingles and look back on the day and think what a boring day it was, or worse. Of course happiness can be and often is extremely boring, everyone's dream is to be happy doing nothing at all, just to exist in happiness as a pure state without cable or snacks. No one ever thinks about what they'll be doing in heaven for all eternity, for example, they just anticipate the happiness. People generally don't like to see other people happy, except in a manner so prosaic and non-threatening to themselves that it might as well be called unhappiness. Happy people irk unhappy people and other happy people alike, people can only enjoy the happiness of another if they feel they've brought about the other person's happiness by their own actions or mere presence, if they feel they are solely responsible for it and therefore have the power to take it away at a moment's notice, for no reason at all except the honing of a breathtaking cruelty that could only be made more perfect, and in fact to dream about doing just that can itself be thought of as a kind of happiness, although that would be incorrect. I tell people all the time, in the home environment or in the public sphere, or in that vague space the laundry room, look here, your happiness is a form of aggression against me personally and I am therefore justified in taking action against you.