Humor

Humor can get you through anything, even a Monday. . . if you know where to find it.

I found it in the 400 pound lady I saw at Costa Vida with a T-shirt that reads "Save the People in Haiti, eat less." Still pondering.

Or the secretary down stairs who color coordinates everything on her person. I'm all for matchy matchy, but green tights, green shoes, green corduroy skirt, green shirt, green ring, green necklace, green earrings, green eye shadow, green lipstick liner (YES!), and a green bow in the hair to tie it all together is just about a leap to far.

Or when I bought new couches this last week that don't fit in my current place of a living room.

Oh, nearly choked on my own saliva because the goats had gotten out of the neighbors pasture and while I was bent over pulling weeds decided to eat my button flaps on my jeans, while they were still attached to my rear end.

I found it the time I sat in a very serious and important meeting and the boss said in his most dignified tone, "The praise was heaped upon me like dung." Weird faces all around.

Some people, as hard as they try don't seem to find humor in anything. Case in point. A certain woman I work with always walks around with a scuzzy frown, all day long. After several encounters with this woman and being snubbed, scuffed, and down right ignored I decided I would be overly nice and happy whenever I was around her. I would go out of my way to say Hi to her, try and make small talk, and complement her on her appearance or work successes.

After what seemed like a long time of being really nice, so nice in fact it was starting to feel fake I was asked, in a not so nice way, by her to stop. I had offended her the day she started because I couldn't remember her name and so she was not going to be my friend. If I was a decent person worthy of her time I would have remembered her name the second time I met her. I was simply wasting my time and she is getting tired of me always smiling at her, it's annoying.

For about two seconds I felt a little shell shocked, like "I can't believe she is saying this to ME!" But that only lasted about two seconds, because I burst out laughing, so hard in fact I dropped the stack of mail I had in my hands and backed into an elderly lady with a walker and made her dump her purse all over.

I soon got over the laughing attack when I realized I was in a public place and there was mail and all the contents of a poor womans purse scattered over City Hall. Word got around the office and everyone found the humor in it, except for one.

Now I not only forgot her name, I am an embarrassment to her. And who would want to be friends with someone like that? Probably someone who doesn't know how to laugh. . . at themselves and everyone else.