Senses Working Undertime

It was only this past week that I finally tested negative for COVID. I didn’t feel even close to myself until a day or two ago. A lot changed for me during COVID. Besides feeling like a truck hit me each day, everything seemed to be just a bit off. I’m still full of phlegm and must clear my throat hundreds of times per day. That has gotten really awkward. People stop talking as they think I’m trying to interrupt and inject myself into the conversation. I have nothing to say. And my poops? Well, they were just weird during COVID. ‘Nuff said, possibly too much. Just about everything was off.

I will admit that I did not lose my senses of taste and smell during COVID. However, much to my chagrin, it appears that I may have lost my senses of decorum (note poop comment above) and humor (note this blog post). I am especially sad about losing my sense of humor, and have commenced taking steps to regain at least partial use of that sense.

My first step was to go back to my comedic roots. I thought that perhaps I can relearn how to be funny once again. So, I took a trip to my alma mater.

Sadly, I discovered that my spit take had deteriorated to nothing more than a dribble take, making more of a mess on me than on my intended target. Whenever I hear that someone just flew in from somewhere, my first instinct is to ask if their flight was okay, not if their arms are tired. And if I see a whipped cream pie, I want to eat it rather than throw it.

After seeing my pathetic performance during some workshops at my old school, I was referred to therapy to try and regain at least partial use of my sense of humor. I now carry a whoopie cushion with me at all times. I practice exercises for an hour a day with a seltzer bottle. I wear a joy buzzer on my ring finger as a constant reminder to seek a cheap laugh.

Has it worked? I like to think there has been some progress. I have noticed that my wife appears to be rolling her eyes more. That’s a positive sign. However, in other areas, I still have miles to go. For example, I now use a cup to catch my dribble take to keep from changing my shirt hourly.

At this point, I can only dream to someday being able to spit upon unwitting comic foils when once again I can enjoy the XTC of my Senses Working Overtime.