I will warn you now: this entry is going to be sappy. Like, pancreas-cringing levels of saccharine sweetness, well past the lethal dose in lab animals. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

One result of going through occasional Funks is that the times I feel genuinely happy can be few and far between. In fact, even when I’m not in the middle of a Funk, I generally go through life in a somewhat detached manner, often feeling like I am observing things from the outside. When asked how I feel, my answer is often truthfully “I don’t know.” It’s hard to describe this type of neutral existence, but if you’ve experienced it yourself, I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about.

But something happened to me Sunday night. I wasn’t doing anything special, just laying in bed next to my girlfriend, both of us reading (myself a book, her on her tablet). It was getting late, and well past time for me to be asleep given how early I would have to get up on Monday. But while I was lying there, I was overcome with an odd feeling: one of overwhelming bliss and happiness.

This normally doesn’t happen to me. Even when generally happy, it’s hard to turn off the part of my brain that worries about the past or future. But this time, even those voices couldn’t shake me out of my happiness groove. For a short time, I was utterly happy. I wasn’t worrying about my job search, the bills that go underpaid, my underemployment, or the multitude of old mistakes and “mistakes” my psyche holds on to to knock me down a peg every once in a while. I was doing something I enjoyed, and spending time with someone I loved. I rolled over and hugged my girlfriend, and just stayed that way for a bit, a smile on my face. For a moment, everything was right in the world.

There’s not really a point to this post, other than sharing an odd experience, as well as proof that I am occasionally happy. Now I’m going to go brush my teeth, before the sweetness gives me cavities.