Rumors of My Death are Greatly Exaggerated.

It is both comforting and disconcerting to know that I got more responses from my previous post than the one on October 27, detailing the odd acts of humans.  But, such is life, I suppose.  Of all the things I have written on this page over the past 7-or-so-years, I would have thought that anus licking reference would have made the difference.  Au contraire.

 

The farther one travels, the less one knows. The less one really knows.

 

The difference between me and regular people is that I will tell you when I'm not "fine."  Fine is a nice texture for hair and a really great idea for slicing cheese - but it stinks when people ask, "How are you?"

For one thing, they seldom want to know.  And for another thing, when you are honest with them, it throws them for a loop. (whatever that means)
I'm not sure what people are expecting to hear when they ask (I think I know) or the alternate, "How's it going?" to which I generally reply, "Oh, it's going."  (I have no idea what that means)
 
They smile and nod, like when they respond to a mental patient.  (Say what they want to hear - in their heads)
Recently, I was found sitting alone at lunch (a common practice) and a co-worker plopped down at the table next to mine.  When another co-worker approached, she implored her to sit with her so that "people wouldn't think I'm an asshole" for sitting alone at lunch.

The thought occurred:  Do people see me sitting alone at lunch and think I'm an asshole?  What a horrible idea, I thought.  After all, I'm there first, and others decide to sit with others - leaving me alone.  So, who is the asshole here?

Maybe I think too much?

Still alive, though.

(don't call the police)