Hey Sean! How Are You?

I've always wanted to answer in Minnesota Not Nice. Like this afternoon, I would have gone off with: “Oh I don't know. How would you feel if you woke up needing another two hours of sleep to bob'n'weave into work where you face counter-productive meetings or write code that's made summarily obsolete by others on your team so, frustrated, you go to your ghetto gym and pedal eight miles without going anywhere then heft around metal in a vain attempt to satiate your vanity followed by a haphazard shower with strangers and their foot fungi only to come back to work to rapidly consume twelve ounces of Kraft™ Singles since they were the only thing at the on-the-way Rainbo that looked edible without smelling awful so you can resume professional futility?” But no. I just threw out my usual, “Pretty good!” as I skipped back to my cubicle.