Today marks the fifth day of my soda free existence.
For years my dentist has begged me to give up soda. Each time I have a new cavity I consider it, but two seconds later I yearn for the burn. I love the way diet soda burns until it hits the belly. After just one sip, I tingle and for a moment I find myself happy–happiness that my dentist wants to take away from him. He is obviously an evil man that deserves to be kicked in the Baby Jesus.
I didn’t consciously decide to give up soda, it just sort of happened. The fridge at my office is normally packed with enough Diet Dr Pepper to hydrate a third world country. At the beginning of the week, when I wandered over for my fix, there were no diet sodas. I whined and bitched and then went without. Two days later it hit me that I hadn’t had soda in two days. TWO DAYS PEOPLE! Since I drink massive quantities of coffee I didn’t have any caffeine withdrawal headaches, so I went with it. I haven’t gone this long without soda since I was a kid. And maybe not even then, I do, after all come from a Mormon background. Where caffeine is served cold and in diet form.
I’m scheduling an appointment with my dentist just so I can inform him of my progress. Well that and possibly score some bubble gum flavored dental floss. Yes, as a matter of fact I DO think I’m twelve-years-old. He will be so proud! But I’ll still want to kick him in the Baby Jesus.