If people are honest with themselves, is anyone actually "happy"?
The only time I was ever "happy" was in Antarctica, and not all the time even there- other people are always a problem. It's the only time in my life I felt useful. Leaving it was the biggest downer of my life.
Too many bullies in school, the military and nursing to be "happy".
The best I can say is that parts of my life were OK, like when I was on holiday in LOS,but knowing that it ends in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 day is a drag.
If there was a time I was "content" it was the last year I ever lived in LOS, after I left the monstress from hell ( my wife ) and before I returned to real life in NZ. I did very little, so very little happened to become a problem.
I think I should have been a hermit. Too late now with all the problems of old age decrepitude.
Perhaps my ideal job would have been a lighthouse keeper. If there were any lighthouse keepers any more that might have been a great job for me. I'd have enjoyed being the sole occupant of a small island in a large ocean tending the light that keeps people safe.
I once upon a time applied to work on Campbell Island but the existing maintenance man changed his mind about leaving so that came to naught.
I think that there is no such thing as a "plan" in life. It's just too chaotic to be sure that it'll work out. I always started a new job with great hopes, but it wasn't too long before the bullying started.