Wednesday, February 6, 2013
I thought this guy at the gas bar was going to write me a ticket or something.
Oh, my klutziness got the better of me again. I started laughing. The clerk at the cash did then as well. There we were laughing and the guy behind me in line took exception. I reminded myself that some folks love to be miserable. It's almost like an entitlement. You'd think this guy'd got a degree in miserable or something and was so much of an expert at miserability (new word) that he'd go out looking for happy people and offer to teach them how to be unhappy. He probably had a big tub of cranky in his trunk ready to deliver to my house for me to wallow in. (Wallow, love that word. It relates mainly to large mammals, to "roll about in mud or water, esp. to keep cool, avoid biting insects, or spread scent.") He probably thought he was doing me a favor showing me the error of my laughing ways and I left before he could get around to offering me a wallow.
He probably needed a hug. But I wasn't the one to give it to him. Rule number one with miserable people: no physical contact. Rule number two with people with wallowing tubs in their trunk: stop laughing. On the outside. Laughing on the inside is fine. Rule number three with wallowing people: agree with them profusely and walk away as soon as possible.
I laugh at myself all the time. Maybe it's in my DNA or something because I'm continuously finding new ways to break myself up. And sometimes I share.
An article on the healing powers of laughter, states "when laughter is shared, it increases happiness and intimacy. Laughter also triggers healthy physical changes in the body. Humor and laughter strengthen your immune system, boost your energy, diminish pain, and protect you from the damaging effects of stress." Then there was a quote from a doctor that I was going to include but it sounded like a preachy public service announcement. And we all know these can cause crankiness. You can look it up for yourself, but be forewarned.
I can't remember where I heard this but there was a motel owner who used humor to good effect. When half of his motel burned to the ground in a fire he changed his promo sign out front to read, "Great rates on non-smoking rooms."
If we can laugh at our foibles it signals to others a self confidence that wallowing pool misery lovers will never project...
...so you might want to visit your own Happy Place yourself, Mr. Gas Bar Grump. (phhhhfffft)
Posted by Rand MacIvor at 9:20 AM