Wednesday, November 22, 2006
it's just so haaarrrrd!
I suppose it could be construed as a blessing, but the fact is my stomach hates me with an ardent passion. About three days ago, I actually started having sharp pains in my abdomen. Lately, every time I finish a glass, I feel ill. These are not good signs. Not good. This is impacting my enjoyment of the Diet Coke. It makes me feel a little wistful, I have to say. Gone are the days when I could drink a 40-ouncer and not feel a thing. I am way too young to be talking like this.
It is a known fact that my family carries an addict gene. I think most of my siblings dodged it; I did not. I have an addict gene that lives inside me, and she’s a nasty little thing. I’m not sure which of my ancestral lines I should thank for this: The Irish One, with their unhealthy passion for pints; the Scottish One, for their scandalous abuse of single malt whiskey; or the German One for their weakness in abstaining from totalitarian leadership - - also, copious amounts of beer.
But back to the Diet Coke. I imagine what I’ll need to do is abstain completely for the next week or so. Cleanse the innards. Then, at an appropriate time, I shall introduce the nectar of intestinal death slowly back into my beverage regime, careful not to imbibe more than 12 ounces per day. I shall place the Diet Coke on a diet. Small portions, moderate, controlled. Yes. I can do that. This way, maybe I’ll have a little stomach lining left for when the kids start hanging out with the potheads at school and telling me they need money for their next body piercing.
It’s easier than saying I can’t ever have it again. A little slack, please.
But I commend you for your bravery. I just try to cut back, I would never be so strong as to cut myself off completely. Even if it is temporarily.
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