Saturday, December 5, 2009

who moved my cheese?

I feel like when the question of 'which are you, 'glass half-empty or half-full' kind of a person comes up, I have the kind of internal struggle-reaction that should be reserved for capital punishment debates and anti-abortion protests.

I always feel obligated to gingerly reply, "why, half-full of course!" because its the upbeat, pro social, and seemingly expected response (sort of like how people ask "how are you?" but really don't want to know the answer. If you answer anything other than the allotted, "fine thanks," or "okay, and you?" people look at you like you hyper-disclosed a dark and twisted fetish involving barnyard animals).

Shunned is the pariah who dares admit that he or she sees the world as a tall, bitter drink half-drained.

One time at work, a group of bar regulars and I were discussing who saw the glass as what. Regular #1 proclaimed his sunny, shiny, glass half-full with assured confidence. The others sort of looked at each other for a sec, then followed suit as per the pariah rule outlined above. When it was my turn, I faltered, torn between wanting to appear a productive member of society and my natural inclination towards being a mildly self-deprecating, sarcastic little punk. Punk wins.

I'm not sure if it's half-empty, but I'm pretty sure my glass has a hole in it.

1 comment:

  1. This reminds me of what I refer to as the 'hi relationship' which we have with the majority of our acquaintances. The people we stay in good graces with by greeting each time we pass them by, but don't anticipate further discussion. In fact an additional 'how are you doing?' might not only confuse them, but throw the entire center of the earth's off its axis. Don't even try to imagine what could come of an attempt to answer said 'how are you' question.

    It is a relationship/conversation even us half-full people are helpless to prevent.