Someone recently said they had “a million things to do tomorrow.”

I replied, “That’s a lot of things per second.”

It wasn’t sarcasm. It was math. A curiosity.
A sentence that could work on two levels: literal (my entry point) and lightly humorous (their expected tone).
It came with an unexpected response.

This is how I navigate.

People often laugh at my absurd answers — but that little twist tends to lower their stress or anxiety. That’s my way of expressing compassion. It’s indirect, but it’s real.

I take language literally first, then reprocess it for what might have been meant.
I’ve built systems to handle metaphor, exaggeration, social shorthand.
But the literal layer never turns off.

That line: “That’s a lot of things per second” is how I move between worlds:
one built on numbers and logic,
and one built on implied meanings.

Had I replied with the full calculation —
“That’s about 11.5 tasks per second, assuming 8 hours of sleep” —
they’d likely have been confused, or said, “Oh come on, it’s just an expression.”

That’s the line I walk:
Somewhere between acknowledgement, compassion, dry humour, unintentional arrogance, and being perceived as difficult.

It’s not always a perfect fit for the moment.
But those who know me understand that I’m trying.
And that it comes from care.