Meet my master.
I am addicted to diet coke. This is no joke. (But to continue the rhyme, if you’re a guy in England, you’d be a bloke!) Some days Mike and I say to each other, “NO MORE! This is the last time we’re buying diet coke!” And then a 2 liter bottle magically appears in our fridge, or a 36-pack levitates off the shelf and drops into our cart at Costco.
One time Mike and I went without any diet coke for one whole month. This was four years ago and since then we have only managed a three or four day stretch without suckling at the sweet carbonated teat.
I’m not addicted to the caffeine because we have had our share of caffeine-free diet cokes as well. It’s been wired into my brain. When a waiter asks me what I’d like to drink, I politely answer, “DIET COKE IN MY MOUTH NOW!” But there’s always cheaper options like WATER or ICED TEA! What if I don’t want to drink pansy iced tea or look like I’m Cheapy McCheapo when I ask for just water?
How lame is this, that I need something bubbly every single day and that right after I publish this post I will be at my office vending machine waiting for a cold bottle of bubbly to drop into my hand so I can chug its sweet contents into my welcoming belly.