For most of my adult life, I’ve gotten by on laughs. I’ve written about it before; laughter is my Teflon™. I’m incredibly sarcastic; I’m self-deprecating to a fault, and I’ve learned to be funny when I’m complimented, uncomfortable, happy, sad, embarrassed, proud, in pain… Make a joke, and fill the space; that’s how I generally operate. It’s how many people see me; it’s what they expect from me. In fairness, I’ve consciously and unconsciously created the image, by being someone who is often “on.” Most of the time, my funny owns me; I don’t necessarily own it. It’s my Teflon™.
But things have been hard lately. I’m having trouble rolling with the punches… and the punches have been non-top and hard. Frankly, there’s been enough personal stuff to keep my funny on over-time, but it’s the physical that has shoved me off the ledge. If I was a religious person, I might be questioning God and why bad things happen to good people.