We were at a party last night ("party" sounds like wild drinking games and dancing on tables and passing out at 2am - it was actually more like a dinner party with too many people to actually sit at the table to eat) for my good friend's birthday. Lots of fun, Natalie was a champ, showing off for everyone and trying to eat my chicken curry right off my plate. With her hands of course. But what wierded me out was how many people kept asking me "How are you doing?" with very obvious sincerity in their voices. My standard response was "Um, OK. It was a busy week. Busy busy busy! But that's a good thing, ya know?"
Most of my friends don't know I suffer from depression or have happy pills that I take every night before bed. The friends that do know are either out of state or in a different circle than the gang that was at dinner last night. I'm wondering if a worried Jim snuck the word out to his sister and from there it's spread around. I wonder if the fact that I mentioned in passing to another friend a while back about going to therapy, I wonder if she put two and two together. Maybe people were just genuinely concerned and care about me enough to ask, with no background information at all. I don't know, but it's put me on edge.
And it's saturday morning at 9:30am and I can hear Jim muching on tortilla chips. He is seriously weird.