Life, to Jerry, was a network of choices. Every morning when he woke, he believed that he had choices to make. This is usually frightening. Normally we recoil from choice, resorting to habitual, stereotypic behaviours to alleviate the strain of being. Children suck their thumbs when distressed.
Madmen rock back and forth in their strait-jackets for comfort.
Somewhat unusually, it didn't threaten him. He had his eyes fixed on the world of human interaction, the exchange of goods and services, and simply didn't see the precipice of the existential abyss beneath his feet. Good for him. Jerry used to annoy his more world-weary acquaintances through his relentless good humour. Every day he greeted the world with a happy smile.