On the Careless "How Are You?"

It happens from time to time. I’m depressed, or anxious, or exhausted. Maybe I had a fight, or I’m stressed about work, or I’m feeling inadequate because blogs don’t pay bills. Maybe I don’t even know what’s bothering me, until some well-meaning schmuck with a shit-eating grin schleps in and greets me in standard form:

“Hi! How are you?”

I grind my teeth. I am about to lie.