My dear old friend Geraldine has many quirks, one of which is that she bristles whenever anyone greets her with the words “how are you?”. She has this little speech of admonishment and explanation, which she will deliver upon the occasion of your first offense. After that, if you ever ask that same casual, non-specific question (out of habit, which is part of her point) she will merely frown and grunt and walk or turn away. I wish right now that I could remember the words to that whole speech, because it was brilliant.
How I am right now is compartmentalized and for the moment, I am desperately thankful for that.