What’s the one thing guaranteed to make you laugh?
Tough question. Is the laughter a sarcastic “you’re an idiot” or a full-hearted “that was hilarious” type of thing?
I laugh for so many reasons, not all of which involve anything being funny. Like when my former boss and her supervisor had me in the office jeopardizing my job because their friend/co-worker didn’t like that I ignored her unprofessional email tantrum.
The woman didn’t appreciate that I was not immediately motivated to stroke her volatile ego or placate her self-induced indignation. Grown folks had things to do. As retribution, I became targeted by her and her buddies in a toxic campaign to first make me uncomfortable then try to get rid of me.
Petty drama on top of petty drama culminated into a witchfest cloaked as a “team meeting” towards conflict resolution. Yeah, I didn’t buy it back then either.
As I sat at a round table with the coven, I laughed with them and their lame passive-aggressive attempts at whit despite the absence of humor.
My nerves will almost always send me into the chuckles. I usually will at least grin harder than necessary for the situation. If things get too tense, I will titter like a school girl, finding any little thing funny.
There is a lot of gravity in life. Heavy things that will crush a person into a fine powder of hopelessness, blown away on the wind of regrets. Nice hyperbole, right? Except—it’s not. Things are hard, and when we seem determined to make them harder for no credible reason, I tend to laugh it off as a matter of survival.
Ratchet up the insanity, and I will do the same with the jocular behavior—until I stop. Don’t get it twisted. If pushed hard enough, I will shift gears. The smile will fade.
When it does, the claws held behind smirks, chortles and jokes are unsheathed, resulting in some pretty bad carnage. Nobody wants that, so I try to keep the levity as long as I possibly can. Sometimes I am successful at keeping things light—sometimes. Each situation is different.
Laughter is my coping mechanism to maintain emotional stability and keep things from becoming all scorched earth. Trust—it’s best for everyone involved.