It isn’t polite to be a Pollyanna. So here is your lesson in manners, designed to keep you firmly on the ground.
Do not arrive carrying three silver linings at once. Choose one. Leave the others idling at the curb.
When asked about the weather, wade directly into the mud. Never an eclipse. Never another silver lining. Never the soft insistence that things might still be otherwise.
If it rains, acknowledge the downpour; do not praise the sky for washing away the soot.
Mind your grammar. The subjunctive is a small trespass — would, could, might imply the world still has rooms that haven’t been tried. Speak in the indicative. What is, is.
Do not invoke next year as though it were a standing invitation. The future tense is a luxury. Check it at the door with your coat.
In company, keep your optimism to yourself. It is catching, and this is not, at the table, considered a compliment.
There are, of course — but no. This is not that kind of guide.
And please, do not let tragedy wander into comedy as if they were still on speaking terms.