There are a number of things you can do to help get through painfully boring meetings. You probably know most of them, if meetings are your forte or if your continued employment depends on attending lots of them. There’s actually a population of folks who love to attend meetings. Any meetings. They’re the same people who send away for absolutely anything that’s offered for free and seem to suffer from assorted forms of compulsive behavior. Hey. Different strokes for different folks.

When you’re at a meeting and things begin to drag, the whole ordeal becomes molasses in January. The eyelids are drag down, your head falls backwards, your mouth is falls open and someone — you — let out a tiny but distinct snore.

There are two main ways to get you through those from-hell meetings; yawning and laughing. Let’s start with laughs. Normally at these deadly boring meetings, people aren’t laughing much, but surely in your lifetime you’ve seen someone laugh, and you’ve made a mental record of their laugh-style. So, to keep yourself from falling face-first into your lap, look around and try imagining those laugh styles on the other meeting attendees.

One example is a person who shuts their eyes, turns their head to the side and whickers softly. Another is when someone throws their head back, flinging their jaws to a width where their tonsils can be easily seen by anyone, but never utters a sound. Weird.

I’ve always liked the laugh that’s so robust and out of control that if actuated while dining, food squirts straight out of the nose.

And then there’s the laugher who laughs quietly but finishes each ripple of mirth with a shattering snort, followed by more snorts, each one seconds longer than its predecessor.

How about the guy who laughs heartily and punctuates his hilarity by delivering a violent slap on either his thigh or your back? I suspect these men may have some hostility issues.

How about the people who always put one of their hands up to cover a laugh? A clue to this behavior is their lifelong habit of saying, “Me? See a dentist? You crazy?”

Let us not forget the most gross — when the laugher again throws their head back, and with jaws spread wide, allows us the rush of seeing every filling they’ve ever had since they got they got their second teeth.

See? The meeting is becoming more bearable by the minute as you consider people’s risible propensities, their whinnies, guffaws, snickers, giggles, chortles, boomers, peals, horse and belly laughs.

But, the meeting is still slogging on. You’re done with laughter, so move onto yawning habits.

Think about the woman who is certain no one notices she’s hiding a majorly huge yawn. She doesn’t open her mouth at all, but her jaw drops down, her lips strain to keep together, her eyes squint and water, her nostrils flare, her chest heaves outward and her head leans back. And all the time she struggles to maintain eye contact and a straight face, trying to be polite by not openly yawning in front of you. Well raised, she fears if she’s caught yawning outright, you’ll think she’s bored. This yawner has convinced herself that no one can detect her small chicanery. Honey, yeah, we can.

How about the guy who really doesn’t give a hoot and stretches his jaws wide apart, like those films of wild lions yawning in the sun after a gigantic zebra banquet for himself and family and allows us to put our curiosity to rest by finally learning for sure that in fact he does have a full set of dentures. Does it occur to this guy to ever cover his mouth? No.

My personal favorite yawner is the man who loudly sucks in a mighty yawn, holds it for a full minute and then expels it with enormous joie de vivre, the expulsion accompanied by a thunderous roar. Now that yawn’s fun.

See? The droney meeting is nearly over and you’ve managed to look sharply attentive throughout.

Uh oh. Someone’s just asked you for your opinion on the meeting’s agenda. At this juncture, fainting would be prudent.