How Are You?

I Absolutely Hate It when I’m walking down the aisle or the hall or any freaking where, and I pass someone going the other way and they quickly blurt out “How Are You?” as they pass. Because, obviously, they do not give a flying shit how I am, or they wouldn’t spit it out as they pass by. It’s particularly irritating when it’s someone I don’t even know or work with. It’s just something we say, to fill the void, because most humans are terrified of silence because it means they have nothing to listen to except the voices inside their heads.

Sometimes I ask myself “How Are You?”, but that doesn’t bother me, because I’m genuinely interested in how I am, and usually, after a few moments thought, I can honestly answer “I’m Fine”. I feel it’s good to check in with myself occasionally, just to touch base and see if any obvious problems pop out of my head unexpectedly. When I’m feeling blue, or wounded, or just Not Entirely Happy, asking myself how I am helps me reassure myself that everything is as it should be.

I don’t know why, but for some reason, when I ask myself how I am, I often place my right hand on my right cheekbone, like Jack Benny, as if to reassure myself that I’m not only fine, but specifically Physically fine, and then, hopefully, Mentally fine as well. Meaning, I guess, “I can still feel my face, so it can’t be too bad”.

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