more blah blah blah

i am still and forever answering the question of life, and i'm having a bit of trouble with one variant:

am i the sort of person who shares all his problems, or keeps them to himself?

before, that was a no-brainer: obviously i was the latter, since i had no-one with whom to share all my problems, though i could share most of them with the parents.

now, though, i have someone wonderful with whom i can - if i want to - share all my troubles.

but do i want to?

i have no problem whining about my problems in writing, but when asked in person "how are you?" i'm strongly motivated to say "fine", regardless of whether i am fine.

(this may be a subtle point. it seems obvious to me, but that's because i'm me. i'm a different character on paper than i am in "real life", and i really don't plan to merge the two any further than i already have. i talk about different things in writing than verbally. i'm smarter and punnier on paper. those wanting to know me have to suffer through both my writing and my physical presense to get the full picture. my apologies.)

right now, i'm kind of headachy, there's somewhat of a scar near the tooth with the crown, my nose is a bit clogged from allergies, my mouth hurts, the funky taste is going strong, there's an unidentified thing on my tongue that's waiting for insurance clearance to get a biopsy, i'm behind in my work at work (well, that's normal for everyone there), i'm behind in my work at home, i'm way behind in my weight loss goals, my weight lifting goals, and my language goals, i still can't play guitar, i'm worried about next monday, next week, next year, and the next five minutes, there's something i'm supposed to do but i can't remember what it is, i'm sore from monday and pissed off about it because i shouldn't be, i don't see any chance to run this week, i'm paranoid that my crown is about to fall off and send me into convulsions of pain, i'm worried i'll say the wrong thing to W, i'm late for work, i can't think of what to do for dinner, i wish i could chew some gum, i wish i had a softer fruit for snack than an apple, i dreamt last night but the dreams weren't pleasant, i slept well but i slept alone, i'd like to go out for beers with oregon guy but i haven't got the time and i'm once again scared of alcohol, and there are a million other things on my mind that won't let me alone.

but if you came up and asked me how i'm doing, i'd say "oh, fine."

maybe if my arm fell off or a tooth popped out or a nail gun fired off into my skull i'd say i was feeling a bit down, but otherwise i'm "just fine".

so what of it?

i think it comes down to: i don't want to burden people with my problems. it doesn't make them go away (the problems, not the people). it's not that i want to pretend i have no problems, it's that i have too much perspective to think that my problems are of any consequence.

of that whole long whiney list, there are only a couple of things that bother me anymore (headachy? allergy-y? still fat? worried about the future? boooooooooring). i'm used to most of them, and deal plenty well with the others.

but the problem is this:

when i tell people that i'm "just fine" but "don't feel like doing ________", the two bits of info don't jive. if i'm fine, why don't i want to _______? okay, well, technically i'm not "fine", but i'm not bad enough to whine about it anywhere but in writing. and i think that confuses people.

so, it's a communication problem, inherited from my Y chromosome perhaps.

what am i going to do about it?

i don't know... maybe nothing. it's too soon to tell whether the problems created by not being a whiney little bitch are worse than the ones i'd have if i was a whiney little bitch.

one thing's for sure, though:

i need to get to work.