The days you laughed until your stomach hurt are the ones you’ll replay when you’re old.

Memory keeps intensity rather than importance. Decades later, what remains available is not the achievements or the difficult stretches but a handful of specific afternoons where something was funny beyond reason, usually with people whose faces you can still see. Nothing about those days looked significant while they were happening.

Since you cannot identify them in advance, the only strategy is to spend time with the people who produce them. Say yes to the pointless evening. The hours that end up mattering most are almost never the ones you scheduled for that purpose.