Wouldn’t it be nice to just decide to live as an anti-happiness zealot? Disallow yourself all pond swimming, frown whenever you meet a Pelageya. Completely consistent, you’ll never need to be confused again. You can just stalk around, having sold your bathing suit, looking down your nose at everything. For that matter, wouldn’t it be nice to just throw down on the side of being happy? To decide to live life as an ardent pro-happiness advocate, always striving to celebrate, dance, have fun, maximize your joy? But then, before you know it, you’re an obnoxious turd on Instagram, standing in a
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