Monday, November 15, 2010

Day 15 - Something or someone you couldn't live without because you've tried to live without it - 30 days of truth

I could easily site this blog as the thing I just can't quit. I've tried a few times to quit, but I always come back. I've made lots of changes and implemented my own new policies along the way, but I always come back. Blogging is a learn as you go thing. At least for me it is. Regardless, I'm not quitting anytime soon.

Really though, what I REALLY can't live without - what I know I can't live without because I've tried so many many many times to quit - is Diet Coke.

How pathetic is that?

Here you go. From the now defunct Deep South Moms Blog, from back in April 2009, is my letter to Diet Coke. I think it was my first syndicated post. Meh. Who cares? It makes me chuckle a little.


Dear Diet Coke,

I don't know what it is about you. I have quit smoking without the aid of gums or patches. I have quit drinking cold turkey when we think there might be a second line appearing on a pregnancy test. I can stick to a diet when I need to drop a few pounds. It wouldn't be unfathomable to call me a woman with self control.

But you, sweet elixir of life, I just can't quit you.

Sixteen weeks into this pregnancy and I still can't seem pass up on a giant, ice cold, frothy fountain Diet Coke. Even though I stopped buying cases of you to keep in my fridge at home, I find myself looking for excuses to get out of the house and hit the nearest drive thru.

Nothing else can take your place. Your inbred cousin, Diet Coke with Splenda, just doesn't cut it. I took him out for a tango when I was pregnant with my first child. I just wasn't satisfied. A real Coke is so full of sugar that my teeth feel like they are wearing sweaters after the third sip. A cup of coffee will curb the desire for caffeine, but it doesn't bring me that effervescent joy that you do.

I have long proclaimed that there is something more addictive about you than in any other soft drink. I knew long before I evern dreamed of being pregnant that you were my one vice. Every thing else could come and go, but you never would loosen your grip on me.

Damn you, Diet Coke. I blame you and your spurious sweetness that bubbles up, taunting me from the McDonald's down the street. You are so bad for me, and yet oh so good.

An unabashed addict