Thanks for Asking

I never know what to say when colleagues call out, “Hi, how are you?” I’m usually not great. Something aches, I’m irritated by work-related issues, there’s an underlying mild sorrow, occasionally partnered by simmering rage, so I answer, “Fine, how are you?”

“I’m great!” they say, and fairly skip into the next part of their day. I trudge away as if I just lost my favourite toy in a bet.

One time, I decided to up my answer. Yes, today I will be positive, shoulders back, and I’m ready for the inquiry. It comes, and I respond sunnily, “I’m good! How are you?”

He answers, “I’m well,” and I want to kill him because what I heard was, “Oh my, your answer was poorly formed, watch me for the correct response.” This grammatical flank attack is especially irksome as I was an English major.

I’m also honest. I tussle with my integrity at the thought of elevating my rejoinder to, “I’m great!” Great? Great? Shouldn’t that be reserved for “just had a baby’, or “won the lottery” or “got a good diagnosis,” as opposed to a Tuesday morning.

Besides, as I hold my integrity in a headlock, I am not great. I have to be truthful. I loosen my grip slightly as my integrity squeaks something about all the good in my life.

I have to figure this out, I’ll likely be asked again. How do I release the notion that it’s a competition? How do I answer honestly without eliciting a helpline pamphlet? “I’m grateful to be alive, don’t love my job, have lots to do, worried about my Dad, appreciate being asked,” seems wordy.

The truth is, whatever is happening, anticipating a trip or a passing, I am blessed. Blessed to be pain-free, blessed to be able to appreciate nature, blessed to simply be. So, the next time I’m asked, I’ll say, “I’m blessed.”

Beat that.