Trying to keep our humor about us.

There is nothing funny about a carrot stick. Truly. Nothing. However, if I couldn't laugh about this, I would probably be crying while I crunch. Here's a blurp from my FAV author to help us along.

"As I sat there sucking in my stomach and seeing nothing move, the twelfth major religion of the world began to form in my mind.

A religion founded in the twentieth century based on the four ignoble truths:

BLOUSES WORN OUTSIDE THE BODY FOOL NO ONE.

ONE-SIZE-FITS-ALL IS AN INCOMPLETE SENTENCE.

IF THERE'S LIFE AFTER WHIPPED CREAM, IT'S IN THIGH CITY.

STARCHING A CAFTAN, NEVER SOLVES ANYTHING.

I would call my new religion FATSU. The disciples would be every woman who has ever gone to bed hungry and who sought a destiny of pantyhose that bagged at the knee.

The day of worship would be Monday, what else?

And the daily chant would be MARTYLERMOORE. . . MARYTYLERMOORE.

I could almost see Jean Nieditch standing in the middle of thunder and lightning while the seven FATSU commandments were being flashed on a head of lettuce:

THOU SHALT NOT PUNISH THYSELF BY TRYING ON A BATHING SUIT WEARING KNEE HI'S.

THOU SHALT NOT CONSIDER GRAVY AND HOLLANDAISE SAUCE A BEVERAGE.

THOU SHALT NOT KILL FOR CHOCOLATE.

THOU SHALT NOT STEAL HALLOWEEN CANDY FROM THY CHILDREN.

THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER MIRRORS BEFORE THEE BUT SPECIAL ONES.

THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF COTTAGE CHEESE IN VAIN.

THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBORS DESSERT.

Banded together, we would surpass the Shinto, Confucian, Hindu and even the Moslem religions of the world. Our disciples would roam the earth spreading the word: starvation. Maybe once a year we'd have a sacrifice by throwing a butterscotch sundae off a cliff. On that day we'd all fast, of course."

-Erma Bombeck

So, anyhow, I'm clinging to humor to get through the weeks with a smile on my face. What coping methods are you guys using? Let me know!!!!

Have a great week!