“I feel like I just went to my own funeral. I didn’t like the eulogy.” Lane Pryce, Mad Men.

(Note: I started this post before the Lane Pryce’s suicide on Mad Men but finished it after. The show got me thinking about happiness and how many Americans connect it to work and wealth, such capricious things.)

Happiness is strange. I feel it when the moment is already slipping passed; it’s like trying to grasp a kite string. Like when I am about to move again or when I am on my way back from a trip and I look out the airplane window:

You know what, I was happy there in that place, on that beach. That was nice.

And there it goes.

“You’ll never think your life is easy”

I don’t know who said this, but it’s so true.
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