I don’t think I’m too far out of the ordinary when I say that I want to be right. I’m competitive, analytical, and even – I know this is hard to believe – argumentative. I had my viewpoint, and I would be determined to prove its worth to you, until either you openly accepted it or I was satisfied that I had made my case so robustly that your response was rendered moot anyway.
A funny thing happened, though, in my undefeated streak of being right. I wasn’t very happy. As it turns out, there’s no omniscient scoreboard somewhere that is keeping track of how often you’re “right” and how often you are “wrong,” awarding you some kind of karma or Happiness Points for you to spend later.