When Life Gives You Lemons

Rosanne Rosanna Danna was so right: It's always something. You're skipping along singing a song and a bus runs over you. Okay, not literally, but you get the point. Your back finally stops aching and you blow out your knee. The same day your kid gets into Harvard your best friend's son flips over his handlebars and ends up in the ICU. I could go on but why.

My husband swears that every life has 50% happiness and 50% sadness, no matter who you are, from the richest king to the lowliest untouchable. Then again, Mitch is what is commonly called a "cockeyed optimist," so I wouldn't plan anything big based on his formula. A surer bet is that every life has the potential for happiness locked inside an internal storage room of the brain, if only we can find the key.

My latest key is drinking two tablespoons of fresh-squeezed lemon juice in 16 ounces of warm water first thing in the morning, followed by no food for 15 minutes. This little cocktail supposedly wakes up your liver and flushes out nasty toxins, and who wants those? As one of many bona fide nutritionists insists, "This simple yet powerful beverage stimulates your gastrointestinal tract—improving your body's ability to absorb nutrients all day and helping food pass through your system with ease." My friend Louise (who has been doing it for the past 18 months) swears, "It gets your engine started." She does look better than ever, I must admit.

I've been doing the lemon juice thing for the last five days and have not yet noticed anything different, but I intend to stay with it because these things take time. And if we are what we eat, which we are, of course, than the thought of warm lemon juice rolling around inside me first thing in the morning certainly sounds virtuous, much better than hot chocolate with marshmallows, a shot of tequila, or even a steaming cup of black coffee.