It will be a great day. It will be a great day. It will be a great day.

Smile. Smile. Smile.

Sometimes I think that if you’re in a job where smiling is required, you evolve into a happier person.

So many people assume that Starbucks employees (whom I adore almost universally, in spite of the flak they get for their brainless grins) are selected for this natural cheerfulness.

I disagree. I choose to believe their smiles are cultivated by their environment. Granted, they probably did not grow up relating to The Rugrats so much as to Elmo. At least the converse truism is indisputable: Happy people, placed in an unhappy environment, become unhappy faster than you can say "F--- You."

So that’s what’s happened to me. I was pre-Goth. I was a Sesame Street’s "The Count" devotee, preferring his Chocula formula to the smarmy Lucky's grub. I had black nails and combat boots in college. I smoked cloves, even. And yet I’m one of those smiley, gentle doctors. However did this come to pass?

No matter.

Smile. Smile. Smile.

Image: Smiling Dog / via Flickr