“Are you happy?”, a friend asks.
“It’s a cruel question to ask,” I answer.
I have works to do, posts to translate, bills to pay, trips to go, books to read, meals to eat, movies to watch, websites to plan, meetings to attend, emails to reply, postcards to write, groceries to buy, shows to follow, games to play, memories to recall, problems to solve, and pills to take.
My plants are alive on the balcony, my savings are available in the bank, my jobs are secure at the moment, and my life has been nice to me so far.
I already have so much in life.
“Are you happy?”, she asks again.
“I should be.”