So apparently, when a casual friend asks me how I'm doing, "I'm on anti-depressants and I have this miserable cold and I made a fool of myself three times already today and I'm horrendously behind on all my work and I feel like shit and I have to finish this damn talk tonight and give it on Saturday and I don't know what the hell I'm doing and all I want to do is go home and curl up in my bed and pretend I don't exist," becomes, on the path from my brain to my lips, "I'm OK."