I like laughter. More precisely, I like to laugh. But lately, laughter is hard to come by. Driving home from a friend's house tonight, I realized how much I miss laughter. Especially raucous, uproarious laughter.
We were part of a group of friends who used to get together pretty much every weekend. We'd giggle well into the night. We'd laugh until tears streamed down our cheeks and our voices were hoarse. We'd laugh until our sides ached and our bladders threatened to explode (and sometimes did). And then we'd just get silly, and every little thing made us laugh all the more.
Where did it go? When did my life become so serious and my times with friends so far between? It's not that there's no joy in my life. There is. It's not that I don't spend time with friends. I do (though not as often as I'd like). But the silliness, the abandon, is gone.
It feels good when I laugh, though it would probably be better not to do it at inappropriate times. I can't help it if the things that amuse me don't make sense to other people. In fact, thinking back on some of those kind of moments makes me laugh right now. I mean how could anyone not find it funny when Mel Gibson, in Conspiracy Theory, has his eyelids taped open and is strapped in a wheelchair, trying to escape his captors? I laughed so hard, out loud, in the movie theater that people gawked at me, prompting the hubby to shush me.
Is there such a thing as laugh recovery? I think I'd sign up for it. Or maybe a seminar. It seems sense of humor is subjective, but laughter need not be. I'm not sure where to start, but watching Conspiracy Theory might be a good idea.
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