Some people do yoga...

Stress is a funny thing. There are as many ways to deal with it as their are single socks in the depths of my closet, (and that is A LOT,) and the way one chooses to handle a tough patch probably says a lot about that individual.

But I hope not.

Because stress reduction for me involves liquid cheese. Lots of it. Possibly washed down with Hawaiian Punch.

If it is a particularly hairy incident being grappled with, I will go days eating almost Nothing but Nachoes (abbreviated "N-b-N" to my close friends as a code for the severity of the situation.)

When I worked downtown I actually had two different liquid cheese supply sources that I alternated between so that no one could see the awful truth: I was eating zesty orange chip gravy every lunch hour for months. (The months leading up to me leaving that job were AWFUL. I was even eating breakfast burritos covered with my favorite substance at least two mornings a week by the time I managed to extricate myself from that mess.)

Sometimes, if it is super, super serious, The Hawaiian Punch gets tossed around in a cocktail shaker with ice and generous shot of Svedka, poured in a martini glass, and masquerades as a classy adult beverage while I sit and sip and stare off the Tree-house patio in the evening.

But always there is the liquid cheese.

I hear the nacho cart down the street calling me now.