I am in the local coffee shop with my friend “Cookie.”

Now to say the stress of this divorce has taken a toll on me would be an understatement. Every divorce has their own unique properties and some are more brutal than others. The financial games alone have elevated my stress to a point I have never before experienced.

I actually have a hereditary blood clot issue that has sent me to the emergency room three times since I retained an attorney.

While “Cookie” and I sip our coffee I smell something.

“Do you smell something?” I ask “Cookie.”

“Yes,” she responds. “It smells like they burnt some toast.”

“Oh thank goodness,” I respond, only I can’t stop the hysterical laughter.

“Last night I was watching “Last Comic Standing,” I say. “And one comic joked about how you smell the smell of burnt toast just before you have a stroke. My guess is that if you smell it too then I am not actually having one.”

I still can’t stop laughing and now neither can she.

“Is that really true?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” I respond. “I really don’t want to find out. Only today of all days, I smell burnt toast.”

I’m pretty sure by the time we said goodbye, “Cookie” was on her way home to google it. Me, I don’t need any additional knowledge until I get through this mess. Ignorance is bliss. After all, had I not seen that comic last night it just would have been plain burnt toast with no meaning. I’m good with that – for now.

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