Fast Company magazine recently did an article (well, more of a blurb, really) on the four habits of the happiest people. The piece came from Michelle Wax of the American Happiness Project, one of those consulting firms that helps to make people more content and productive — which a year ago I would have accused of being Orwellian, but I think we’ve all learned the value of taking care of our personal mental health since then.
I remain vehemently opposed to hiding behind “inhibitors” and “suppressors,” when it’s perfectly okay not to be happy all the time. Please don’t debate me or tell me your personal pill regimen saved your life. I’ve heard every story. I’m not anti-science. I’m just… anti–anti-depressant. Or maybe antidepressenter? Whatever. My only premise is that pharmaceutical companies and a few opportunistic psychologists seem a lot more interested in repeat business than in curing anyone.
The article that sparked this rant offered fine advice—just a bit, shall we say, fugacious. (Yes, I had to look that word up. No, I will not apologize for assaulting it in public.) I’ve read my share of self-help books and done plenty of oddball “find your inner self” exercises. Look, proof:
Anyway, since no one actually asked, here are my own four personal keys to happiness—complete with some pseudo-scientific, possibly hallucinatory reasoning behind them.
1. Keep a Different Playlist for Every Mood
This will surprise absolutely no one who knows me. My theory, unscientifically proven but emotionally bulletproof, is that most people listen to music wrong.
When you’re in a bad mood, don’t stand there scrolling through Spotify asking, “What do I feel like hearing?” That’s like driving into a skid. Wrong move, sailor. Tack against the wind.
Heartbroken? Don’t lean into sad ballads. One glass of wine and an hour of good lounge music will convince your brain you’re ready to flirt with the bartender again. Distracted at work? Tune into D&B Liquefied out of London—it’s like Ritalin in 4/4 time. Stuck thinking about work? Yacht rock sing-alongs will scrub that out of your mind with smooth, glossy ‘70s cheese. Angry and want to stay angry? Radio Caprice has sixty-seven flavors of metal. Pick one and rage responsibly. Caught in that vague, undefinable “creeping malaise?” Try SomaFM’s Secret Agent channel. It’s like an emotional palate cleanser—cool, neutral, mysterious.
Back in college, when a girlfriend crushed me (repeatedly … she was “thorough”), I’d lock myself in the dark and play the entire Black Sabbath catalog until the only thing I felt was pure hatred for … Black Sabbath, but that only lasts a couple of hours. You can’t stay made at “the guys.”
My point: choose the outcome mood and build playlists that push you there. One day I’ll monetize this superpower. Until then, I’m just that weird friend who can emotionally reprogram anyone with a Bluetooth speaker.
2. Do All Your Worrying Between 9:00 and 9:15 AM
I stole this one from The Worry Trick. The idea: worrying constantly doesn’t prevent bad things from happening; it just burns energy like an emotional space heater.
The trick is to jot every worry onto a “Worry List,” then give them your full attention during a single fifteen-minute slot each morning. Outside that window, any new anxieties get told, “Sorry, Worry Hour is closed. Come back tomorrow.”
It sounds ridiculous, but it works. Bonus: it drives my anxiety-addicted friends insane, because they keep trying to rope me into their stress spirals throughout the day. They treat worry like a couch they can move if someone else grabs the other end. Sorry, nope. You’re just giving both of us back problems.
3. Schedule One Social Night and One “Me” Night Every Week
For eight years, Wednesdays have been the same: same bar, same friends, same beer, same conversations. That’s my mandatory social night.
Thursdays? That’s “me” night. Sometimes I meet other friends. Sometimes I circle back to Wednesday’s crowd. Usually, I grab a quiet corner somewhere, sip something decent, and either catch live music or scroll my phone like a philosopher consulting a tiny glowing oracle.
The rule: two nights a week, I leave the house and go somewhere that makes me happy. Even if you hate routines, this one saves your sanity. And no, alcohol isn’t required — swap beer for coffee, pastries, knitting circles, trivia nights, or whatever fuels your soul. Just go.
4. Always Keep a Lottery Ticket in Your Wallet
Yes, the lottery is a tax on people who struggle with math. I spent years as an analyst; I know my odds are roughly 99.99998932401704% against me. But for two bucks a week, I buy that microscopic slice of maybe.
Those $2 also buy me hours of entertainment planning my future nightclub-slash-radio-studio-slash-penthouse-empire in the abandoned office park off I-69. Every couple of months, I win back my $2. Once a year, I hit $20. It’s cheaper than golf. Or therapy. Or heroin.
But it’s not about the money. It’s about randomness. Keeping one small spark of uncertainty alive. That tiny, irrational belief that something unexpected could still happen. Every year on my birthday (race weekend here in Indy) I invite ten random celebrities I know are in town for the Indy 500 to my cookout. None have shown up yet, but when my friends hear, “I’ve invited David Letterman and Ashley Judd,” they suddenly clear their schedules. That’s the magic of maybe.
So there you have it, my four humble keys to happiness. No pills required, minimal side effects, and a money-back guarantee if you’re not at least slightly amused. Now it’s your turn. Drop your own keys to happiness in the comments. Bonus points if one of them involves Yacht Rock, Worry Hour, or inviting Ashley Judd to a barbecue.
