“I just want to be happier,” I told him. I could hear both the selfindulgence
and the sloppy thinking in the demand. I needed to dial
back on the whine. Some years before, a friend and university colleague
asked, “Why can’t you just be happy?” I tried to answer her
honestly. Happiness was not something I aspired to. I had a good
man, a good job, and a dog who was trying to be good—and I was left
wanting more. I wanted to be challenged and engaged, to fire on all six
cylinders. I wanted to do something that made me lose track of time.
I wanted to push my limits.
——“what the dog knows”