Snow White Drank Grumpy’s Diet Coke
Giving up Diet Coke has not been fun.
In all fairness, I should tell you that I haven’t given it up completely, yet. Since we still had some in the house, and I am the only one who drinks it, I figured I would finish up our current stock. So, I’ve been slowly weaning myself off of it instead of going cold turkey.
I finished up the caffeinated Diet Coke on Thursday. I had reduced it to one a day (from about 4 a day).
Friday was not a pretty day. Headaches, unsympathetic first graders, That Time of the Month, and a cold front did not improve my mood. I know. T.M.I. You don’t care about a cold front.
Saturday was not much better. Despite the fact that there were no first graders (sympathetic or unsympathetic) or headaches, the other factors remained.
I was cranky and depressed. I’ve had to give up salad because it attacks my stomach, and now Diet Coke.
And I know people suffer far worse problems and I am being narcissistic. Which makes me even more depressed.
And I hate drinking water.
We went to my favorite pizza place on Friday and I had to watch Dimples and the Cap’n eat salad while I drank a glass of wine instead. It was small consolation. Two glasses of wine might have changed my outlook on things, but I was driving.
Dimples did ask me if it was okay if they ate the salad. Of course I said that it wouldn’t bother me. Because I never say whatimeant2say.
And I would really like to talk to the people who did the study that concluded that diet drinks were making people gain weight because I’ve gained three pounds since I started reducing them. And no, Smarty Pants, I haven’t replaced every single soda with a glass of wine. The wine replaces the salads, not the sodas.
So, basically, I am not seeing the value in this little experiment. Other than showing my daughter how important it is to me to try to be as healthy as I can for her sake.
But, really, how big is the impact of this lesson going to be on her? Aren’t I really just teaching her that trying to be healthy makes people grumpy?
I think the underlying cause of all of this depression is that I am not walking down a red carpet in a Vera Wang dress at the Academy Awards tonight.
No, actually, it is that, if I were invited to the Academy Awards I would probably pop the zipper on my Vera Wang dress right when I was exiting the limo and I would be on the cover of STAR magazine tomorrow with the headline, “Mrs. Cap’n Firepants Needs a Bigger Size!”
Wow. Even more depressing than the mental image of me embarrassing myself in front of millions of people is the lame headline I just concocted.
I’m turning into “Fun Bobby”, Monica’s boyfriend on Friends, who gave up alcohol and became a complete dud.
On the up side, I heard a story on NPR today in which the speaker stated that clinically depressed people actually see life in a more realistic way than other people.
Yep. That’s my silver lining, right there.
photo credit: .m for matthijs via photopin cc
This Ain’t Gonna Be Pretty
“Everyone’s gotta die sometime.”
This was my mother’s lackadaisical response whenever, after being bombarded at school with pictures of blackened lungs, I would beg her to stop smoking.
As far as I know, she’s still going strong; we haven’t spoken in years. But I’ve always thought if Someone Up There really has a twisted sense of humor, I would probably die first – in some ridiculous manner, like “Being Struck By A Flying Model Lawnmower At A New York Jets Halftime Show” or, probably more likely in my neck of the woods, “Being Crushed In Your Car By A Rolling Bale Of Hay.”
Recently, I have been struggling with IBS (Irritated B—– Screaming because no one can diagnose what’s wrong with her stomach). Cap’n Firepants and many of my friends have cautiously asked me if this could be in any way, shape, or form related to my Diet Coke Addiction.
I won’t tell you my less than polite response to this ridiculous suggestion, but I will say that, in desperation, I have mentioned this possibility to all of my doctors – who have pooh-poohed it immediately.
Of course, these are the same doctors who have no idea what is wrong with me.
Since my doctors have not only been unable to identify the cause of my issues nor to successfully treat the symptoms, I am beginning to have a little less faith in their advice.
I’ve decided to crowd-source my treatment, and the Crowd seems to think I need to give up Diet Coke. The good news is, this treatment will cost me nothing.
The bad news is that I will most likely murder someone during my withdrawal.
I pretty much drink Diet Coke like most people drink water. In fact, when I do drink water, my stomach churns and rebels as though I have just ingested arsenic-laced tea.
I’ve given D.C. up a few times in the last twenty years – most notably when I was pregnant with Dimples. But, to me, it’s always rated as a not-so-horrible-as-snorting-coke Addiction, so I return to it with a vengeance.
When reports started coming out that diet soda drinkers were actually fatter than their counterparts, I dismissed this as another one of those studies that was missing some key data – until my jeans started getting too tight a few weeks ago.
And then there is my own daughter.
When she asked if she could have a sip of my Diet Coke, all of my maternal instincts instantly screamed, “No, don’t let her start down this road of addiction to caffeine and artificial sweeteners!”
However, it’s a little difficult to justify restricting her from the same vile stuff I pour down my own throat on an hourly basis.
So, as a noble sacrifice for the sake of Dimples, I am going to make an attempt to break this vicious cycle.
Of course, I wouldn’t be upset if my jeans started fitting again.
Plus, I want to prove my doctors wrong.
And, quite frankly, although I am fairly certain I will “die sometime,” I really don’t want my obituary to read, “Diet Coke Ate up Her Internal Organs.”
In the meantime, at the risk of getting myself thrown in the slammer for insider trading, I highly recommend you start selling any stock you might have in Diet Coke. Their profits are about to suffer a severe downtick.photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/kt/503318641/”>The Rocketeer</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a>