Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.
According to some enlightened folk that’s what ‘fine’ really means. If you answer ‘fine’ you’re really saying that you’re a massive crapbag full of mess who is trying to keep a lid on things.
Fanny. Igloo. Nigella. Effervescent.
They’re just words aren’t they, but we read so much into it.
“I’m so hungover I might die but can’t let you know that.”
“If you say one more thing to me I’m going to rip your head off and spit down your neck.”
“WHYYYYY HASN’T HE TEXT ME?! Did I say something daft? Did I have spinach in my teeth? I’m way too pre-occupied to answer you so I’ll just say fine.”
“I’m not fine but I don’t know how I’m feeling so for the purpose of this conversation I’m fine.”
And sometimes it means just that, that I’ve checked myself out and everything is… well… fine.
I’ve been trying to get in touch with my emotions recently (yes, that makes me sound like an absolute wanker) so I ponied up the dinero for a Mood Calendar for my desk at work.
It’s just a shame it doesn’t have homicidal or desperately in need of gin as choices.