I came to America because I wanted to watch live football, basketball and baseball.
It’s shallow, I know.
But I thought America was the home of shallow, so that kind of sentiment would be appreciated.
I wasn’t ready, though, for the nuances of American vocabulary.
And two words came at me again and again, with such regularity that I haven’t stopped thinking about them in the 14 years I’ve been here.
Every time something pissed me off, caused me to pout even momentarily or even have a slight moody for the rest of the day, someone would utter these words: “Are you depressed?”