To wrap up my second week in the new year I have a second self love recognition to share (in line with my 2012 “resolution”) – I love that I can crack myself up. My sense of humor, for better or worse, is a complete package in my nutty little head. I really need no input from others to laugh out loud most days and to find some level of amusement in just about every life activity (just about…). Perhaps this means I am a bit mad.
Clinical mental health diagnosis aside, I like that I have the ability to see and incorporate humor into my daily life experiences. It keeps me sane – at least in my estimation, but we have already established I may be a bit mad – so take it for what it is worth. I long ago learned to use humor as a coping mechanism. Not the dark humor that some folks who face really trying situations use to cope (folks like soldiers, police, firefighters, etc.), no my humor tends to be self-deprecating, really goofy, and often hysterical only to me – humor. Hence, a good portion of my amusement comes from laughing at myself about things that only seem to endlessly amuse me. Being the imperfect person I am, that leaves an awful lot of opportunity for laughter.
Probably the most often used tag on my blog entries is humor. In sharing my thoughts and interactions on my blog I cannot avoid bouncing in and out of the state I enjoy the most – one of giggling laughter at myself, others and the silliness in the world. I try always to only laugh at myself and with others who are laughing at themselves. I am not a fan of humor that comes at the cost of belittling others and hurting folks’ feelings. But I do admit that on occasion some situations beg for observations to be shared that I consider humorous and fair game, but that some may wish I had managed to overlook in my day-to-day amusement. I hope that the fairly regular stream of humorous reflections on my own less than perfect life help everyone out there realize that we all have our “moments” – granted my “moments” tend to stretch into hours and sometimes days.
Even as I write this I am giggling at what an abomination my lounging around the house outfit is today. I am sure I am actively committing a fashion felony in my heart and skull and cross bones fuzzy pj pants covered with cat fur where the cat was loving me; a stretched out, and I suspect, kind of smelly, tank top; a warm, fuzzy, but fairly ugly brown sweat jacket; and, my fuzzy, uber-comfy, unisex slippers that I shuffle around the house in. I am a vision to behold to be sure – I think I could definitely take a visitor’s breath away, but not in a good way – in a train wreck, can’t take your eyes off of it, “Oh my God we should do something to help, but what?” – kind of way. And that my friends – the realization that I look today like something only a mother (a blind, senile mother) could love – well, that cracks me up.
Yes, I am a bit mad.
Day nine hundred and twenty-two of the new forty – obla di obla da