Pet peeve
I cannot stand being asked these two most hated questions of the entire universe:
“How are you?”
and
“How was your day?”
I never know what to say. I mean, what can I say?
I just don’t usually prepare constant updated summaries of my feelings and thoughts and moods during the day, but just do and am. Those two questions force me to pause and think about how exactly my day went so far, the combination of how I was during the past several hours — those two seconds of pleasure I felt upon reading that poem, the happiness I felt upon discovering that the roll of pictures came out well, the frustration I felt upon my persistent lack of inspiration to dance, the anger I felt about my brother’s a-hole of a boss, the melancholy I felt upon listening to the falling autumn rain, the impatience that filled my mind as I made that sandwich — and put those colors of mood-paint into a jar and shake them up, determine the temperature and shade of Nothingness that comes out as a result, and report back to the person on the other end of the phone line.
So I usually just answer,
“Fine, and how are you?”
and
“It was nice, and your’s?”
Hoping that that part of the “conversation” is quickly over and done with. And why must I do this? Why must I interrupt the flow of my psyche to answer an inane daily question to which the daily answer is usually equally inane? Why must I be asked these questions that are only asked because that is the only way some people know how to start a conversation? Why must I be subjected to the mediocrity of people’s stupid conversational habits? Which inevitably becomes,
“Fine, fine.”
and
“It was good.”
The whole thing bores me to such tears, it makes me want to throw up. It really ruins my day. Which is why I never pick up the phone in the first place.
If anyone really knows me at all, they would know that I hate this. To those who claim to know me well and still persist on asking these questions out of habit at the beginning of every conversation, it is absolutely unforgiveable. I don’t ask that everyone be clever or interesting or entertaining when they talk to me. I’m just asking people not to put the burden of speaking on me, just because they have nothing else to say except ask stupid questions. Or even better, just don’t call me at all.
It is even more dreadful when I am asked the most hated question of all,
“And what did you do today?”
To which I answer:
“Stuff.”
And then make up some excuse, and hang up the phone. That last one is really too much for me to bear.
