Last night I had several instances of claustrophobia, the worst attacks I've had in years. I'd call them a little like panic attacks, although I kept them to myself. My chest felt heavy and I felt nauseous and anxious. Just knowing I can't easily leave the house makes me want to drive anywhere, even to work.
I'm so thankful for my sense of humor. What would life be without the ability to laugh at it? I notice how some people take everything so deadly serious, and I think it must make life very grim. Right now one of my favorite comedy movies is coming on cable: Barefoot in the Park with Jane Fonda and Robert Redford. I've probably mentioned before that Mildred Natwick is just priceless in this movie; she's one of the great comedic actresses, underappreciated. She's in her early 50s in this movie, and you'd think she's a hundred, sleeping on a board, taking pills for everything. She's the anti-me, but she still rolls with the punches.
Charlie and I both got evil senses of humor from Dad. I guess they call it gallows humor. We've always had it, Sue too. Mom, however, never had much of a sense of humor at all. She was a typical Swede from Minnesota; she hardly got a joke, and she usually thought jokes were about her. She was suspicious of laughter. It really made her life a lot harder, especially living with the three of us (Charlie, Dad and me).
I have a couple friends who are waaay too serious, too. But how do you tell someone to just lighten up? You can't control the world around you; you can only control your reaction to it. And occasionally it's best to just laugh it off.
My sense of humor is getting me through this annoying time, when Christmas has basically been ruined by the ridiculous weather. We won't be able to have our normal celebration, just like thousands of others here in Portland. But there's no use in crying about it. Even if the lights go out and we're left to huddle around a fire, we might as well make the best of it.
So tonight we played games on the computer and ate nachos. Why not?