Whenever I get on FB, the status box is always nice enough to ask me, "How are you doing, Evgenia?" Not that I have anything much to report; but it's difficult to turn down such a persistent manifestation of care. I owe it some kind of a reply.
So, how am I doing? Good question. Shall I tell the truth? Hmm. Everyone may actually end up reading it. On the other hand, WTF, here it goes. I'm doing just fine.
I bet you're disappointed, dear FB. You wanted something more substantive, something more intriguing, something more quirky. If nothing else, a picture of me eating a hamburger would do. It would give my friends an insight into my life as well as something new to like. Somehow, dear FB, things become so much more likable when posted on you. Indeed. Who would care about me eating a hamburger in real life? You transform reality into this fascinating thing.
Alas! No hamburger. Nothing to like. Nothing to comment on. No I didn't buy new shoes today. And I didn't care to take a picture of the shoes I considered buying and ended up not buying. Nothing. Clean slate.
There, there, I'm exaggerating a bit. I do have a life. No, really. Those shoes were awesome.
Sometimes I like my life. Sometimes I think it sucks. Sometimes I even think it is worth sharing. Well maybe not right now. And sometimes, I too need someone to ask me, "How are you going, Evgenia?" So if you want the truth, I'm glad you're there.
So thank you, I'm doing fine. And you?