There's painting I do on my job which requires meticulous attention with a tiny brush and it makes my hands go numb and throb. Usually I switch it out with other tasks, do my carpal tunnel exercises, hand it off to someone else. But yesterday an entire herd of glass vessels stood staring me down on the work table, and the only way to avoid their charge was to leave work early which results in 1) a smaller paycheck and 2) a back-up of unfinished orders. So with two and a half hours still to go, I reluctantly dragged out the box of acrylics, the brushes, the little plastic palette, and set to painting. It reminds me a bit of the old paint-by-number sets, where you had to paint all the dull and neutral colors first before adding the brights splashes of really great colors: I first immerse myself in lamp black (protective coating on my hands!) and then move on to sap green, perylene maroon, iridescent Aztec gold. A half hour into it and my hands were screaming at me.
Melinda and I were into one of our long-afternoon chats about anything and everything and the subject of heart-disease/clogged-arteries came up and, in reference to one of my relatives, asked if she'd considered The Cauliflower Treatment. Huh? Never heard of it, but there's something about the word cauliflower popping up amidst medical talk that is very comical, and I began to laugh. M., in an attempt to salvage her very serious question, went off to google "cauliflower/clogged-arteries" (which proved futile).
Still, the subject of The Cauliflower Treatment as a solution to the clogged-artery problem began to grow in hilarity, and we began one of our uncontrollable laughing fits, tears streaking our cheeks, bent-over & collapsed, surrendered to the moment. (Someone walking by the house at that moment would've heard a succession of shrill-pitched shrieks and might've been inclined to Alert The Authorities.)
When the laughs finally petered themselves out, as they do, I settled back into the task, literally, at hand, and my hands no longer ached. I finished the day's painting in good cheer, feeling finger-nimble and fit.
My prescription for you, therefore, is silliness, hijinx, mirth, tomfoolery & a healthy dose of hoopla.