It usually begins with “Sylvia, how was your day?” I respond with a “fine” or “good” but I don’t usually mean that. In my terms, “fine” was a day that was pretty interesting and was all around a decent day. “Good” means that it was bad or that something unexpected and not that great happened. I’ve never really told anyone my inside meaning to these words but no one has really asked. It’s not like they would be interested anyways.

When people usually ask you how your day is, they don’t actually care. Note in point the people who work in the supermarket. You tell them how you’re actually feeling and they give you this look. Believe me, I’ve tried it. I told them that I was feeling low one day and they just looked at me as if it wasn’t something they weren’t expecting. Either I guess when you work in a supermarket the people are happy that go in there or they just lie about how they’re feeling.

It’s a sad world we live in. I have discovered this slowly but surely. I can’t even talk to my mom about my problems. I told her once about a bad day I was having and she blew me off for my little brother. He’s nine years old and she still treats him like a two year old. Like I said, no one really cares.

One day my dad came home from work and I was fixing myself a peanut butter sandwich. He said hi, asked me how my day was and then went into his office. He didn’t even wait for a response.

I was feeling pretty low that day too. I could have told him that I had wanted to be hit by a truck on my way home from school but he didn’t even stop to listen. I suppose I would have just told him day was “good” anyways.

I guess it gets pretty boring to get one word responses from your children. Maybe that’s why my parents don’t even listen anymore. The fine’s and the good’s must have become quite boring to listen to after all these years.

I guess that’s where I am today. I don’t really have that much hope for anything except for maybe becoming the next Salvador Dali but even that I’m not sure about.

If I ever do make it past being a teenager and get into that adult stage where I meet a guy and get married, I don’t want to treat my kids this way. I guess it’s hard for kids to talk to their parents but I want mine to talk to me and I want my parents to listen to me.