No smarmy connotation intended, not at all, but in the last few weeks, this question has surfaced with accelerated frequency. It’s punctuated my own quest for what it means to be happy, the goals, accomplishments and the journeys that make me happy. Ah, but you watched Oprah today. Or you saw the author of Happier on the Daily Show last week. Maybe you’re just more wise than I am, picked up a Webster’s, and you know that happiness is defined as “a state of well-being and contentment.” Which is to say, it’s not a journey. Or a goal. Or an accomplishment. It lives in you, and it lives in me. We all have the ability to just be happy.

So I’m kinda pissed. Because I don’t know what the hell that kind of feel-good, self-empowering, new-agey crazy talk actually means. And why can’t I buy happiness? It seems so much easier than chasing after an elusive “state of well-being.” I’m simply dismayed that finding the perfect red lipstick (Lover by Chanel), paying $39 at a sample sale for a $259 skirt (Yoana Baraschi), or scoring this super cute night stand won’t make me any happier than had I not spent that money. at. all.

I took Oprah’s quiz, and I scored a respectable 20: I’m not miserable, but I’m not greeting each new day as a treasured gift…not yet, anyway. Naturally, her guest, Dr. Robert Holden, has some advice for the ho-hum, kinda glum:

“We have to learn to let go of our past, we have to give up all hopes for a perfect past. Let the past go, it’s gone.” After that, he says, “Take a vow of kindness. Be kinder to yourself and to others.

Sage words that I’m sure to ponder while I clumsily claw through another sleepless, miserable night, despite my new Heavenly Bed Comforel pillows, encased in 450 thread count sheeting, situated on a Cuddledown brand featherbed. If only money could buy happiness.