So I had some Diet Coke on Friday. It was my first soda (pop, to my fellow Rockfordians) in about a month and a half. Les and I were out for our Friday Pizza, and we gave up alcohol for Lent, so we were both feeling a bit lost in the beverage department. Gooey pizza with a glass of water never really feels quite right. So, I took some friends' suggestions and decided to have my Diet Coke, since it was from a fountain (no cans or bottles) and could be considered a "special treat".
After I placed my order with the waitress, I leaned back in the booth and imagined what that fizzy, diet-cokey deliciousness would taste like when it finally arrived. When the waitress set it down on the table in front of me, I drew the straw up to my lips and took a luxurious slug of pop and savored it for a second before swallowing.
But guess what?
It did surprisingly little for me. I enjoyed it, don't get me wrong. And there's nothing quite like pizza&pop. But I didn't wake up in the middle of the night and ponder sneaking out to the 7-11 for another fix.
So, anyway, the moral of the story is that I'm reassured that pop can be a "sometimes treat" without re-wrapping its tentacles around me. Or, maybe the longer I go between Diet Cokes, the less and less I will want it. Wonder if it works that way for all my vices?
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