I like to roll out my New Year’s resolutions at game show tempo–a suspenseful buildup followed by the great reveal. None of this Jan 1st write a list stuff. The rollout always begins with a comparison to the previous year, month, or moment I decide something has to change. It’s an ongoing list of goals. I reviewed of one of my last year’s resolutions: “Stop being self-deprecating,” or phrased more positively, “Use words that empower not diminish me.” This is generally good advice, but I found it had one unexpected consequence. I kind of lost my funny. Most of my humor was in some way self-deprecating and now,with this boycott, I felt a little humorless. So much so, that I actually googled the words “Trying to find my funny.” Lo and behold there was blog by that name. The mother, wife, lawyer lady who wrote it was indeed MY Kind OF FUNNY. Her blog had a blaze of hilarious topics that had me laughing out loud. I sent her an effusive note, exclaiming how I’d found my soulmate, how she inspired me to declare a new resolution, and how I felt like we could be besties. Feeling more buoyant and hopeful I set out on my daily walk. I could feel a funny coming on so I whipped out my iPhone to dictate. I had once toyed with a column about all the stupid things I’d done, but now thought to rename it: “ All the things I’ve learned the hard way.” Stuff like: Never under any circumstances wear white pants when you are doing a detox cleanse (more about that later). Or never under any circumstances leave raw shrimp in your car overnight. I was on a roll dictating about the raw shrimp incident. I had just gotten to the part about being at the car wash, because even after disposing of the dead arthropods, my car still smelled like a crime scene. I was sniffing the dangling air-freshener trees while keeping an eye out for the SWAT team. Does Pina Colada pair well with dead shrimp? And then IT happened. The IT being that suddenly the note and every other Blog Idea I‘d written for the last year on that note page, vanished. Disappeared. There was no back arrow. No, “Are you sure you want to delete this?“question. No, “Just kidding, fooled ya here’s your stuff.” No. All of my words were GONE. The page was blank except for a time stamp and a conspicuously absent subject heading that looked as if it were confiscated by the NSA. This was a major buzz kill to my funny. I drove home and immediately got on the phone with the Apple Care tech support people. Well, haha, “immediately” is where the story takes another turn in losing my elusive funny. I had to manage two conflicting priorities. Get my Blog notes back and get dressed and ready to see a client. I had only a ½ hour to multi task an Olympic-worthy list of to-dos. Here’s the run down. Call Apple, plug in headset on my hands-free land line. Check. Turn on Vitamix for Green juice breakfast drink for car ride. Check. Load lunchbox. Check. Keep from tripping over barking anxious underfoot dogs as I scramble from room to room. Check. Start armpit wash. Check. Put on makeup. Check. Navigate (apologetically) around housecleaner’s vacuum. Check. Locate all Apple devices and search for serial numbers. Check. Wait for Apple tech to come on line. Check.
Finally, Jonathan interrupts the recycled music, in that I’ve-got-all-the-time-in-the-world how’s-your-day-goin-voice. I tell my woeful tale and repeat it at least three times before being transferred to a senior advisor to whom I repeat the story. We delete data, merge data, enter time machine, restart the phone and restart the computer, all at what feels like slo-mo glacial speed. Amazingly, I had nanosecond glimpses of the slippery Blog notes. They literally appear momentarily and then vanish. I am transferred once again. Now I am talking to my second super senior advisor. I still have no Blog notes. I have one armpit washed. No makeup on. No salad in lunchbox, but I smell something cooking. My Vitamix has been whirring my kale, apple and lime juice drink for about 15 min at 240 mph. It and the container are steaming hot. While being placed on a “brief” hold, a torrent of very loud and very un-funny four-letter words spew from my mouth. My housekeeper ramps up into vacuum overdrive.
“Hello my name is Brandon. I am your uber super duper senior advisor and I understand you’ve been having some problems.” We jump down a new rabbit-hole of ICloud exploration. We troubleshoot the WiFi off and on and then suddenly I lose Brandon. He’s gone mute and missing. I don’t know if I lost him in the hole or the cloud but we definitely have disconnected. I now realize I will be an hour late to my appointment. From the recesses of my mind, the words of Ekhart Tolle, banner role across my consciousness.
“Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it.”
Really Ekhart? Freaking really? Aaaaarrrgggghhh. Sure I can accept the present moment when it’s something like: “Your work is being published or you’ve won a trip to Bali.” And yet, at this present moment, I am out of time, out of options, and out of four letter words; so I do surrender. I start tapping using EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique).
“Even though I’m really pissed I’ve lost all my notes, I love and accept myself.” Tap Tap Tap.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” I start to laugh. Ya, it’s kind of fake at first, but I know the fastest way to change my "state” is by changing my physiology, and the more I fake it, the more I start to see the irony of my monumental quest. I’m loosening up and asking that important question–Will I laugh at this in 5 years? 5 months? 5 weeks? 5 days? 5 hours? 5 minutes? 5 seconds? And I do laugh. For real when my inner Dorothy shows up with these words…
"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!" Wizard of Oz
PS. I finally did recover my Blog notes (thanks to Monique) and haha, turns out they weren’t quite as funny as I’d remembered. 
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