How ya doin?

I'm starting to resent the look of pity.  Well, pity in general.  Both the look and the "How ya doin.....?" question in a tone of pity.  Every time someone sees me for the first time since the fire, that's what I get.  The worst is when they start to smile and give the standard, "How ya doin'?" but then I can actually see the look in their eyes say, "Oh wait, that's Coury, her house burned..." and the look and the question change.  It's like they feel guilty for being happy or expecting me to be happy.  I understand.  I'm pretty sure I do that too.  Or, I did.  I'm learning a lot about how to handle people during a crisis after all of this.

It is true, though... people don't expect me to be happy.  It shocks people that I returned to work so quickly and that I'm smiling when they see me.  But that puzzles me.  What do they expect?  I can't walk around crying all of the time.  I can't stay home huddled up on my couch all day.  For one, I have two children who need me to be their mama - the smiling, energetic mama they're used to.  For two, I have a job, a job that I love where principals and students and co-workers depend on me.  These things inspire me.  Am I probably sadder than I look?  Yes.  But are there many moments in the day where I'm genuinely happy and not thinking about my house?  Definitely so.