And I thought kicking my heroin addiction was hard.
It was way easier than getting off Diet Coke.
OK, so I was never a heroin addict, but I know, IF I HAD been addicted to heroin, it would have been a lot easier to kick than stinkin’ Diet Coke.
In fact, my body is in such turmoil over the missing gallons of Diet Coke, it hasn’t even noticed that I’ve had no wine since midnight on Sunday. Or sugar.
And that I’m eating vegetables. And fruit. And nuts.
It’s all part of this wack-a-doodle diet my sisters rave about. It was Jean Anne, who weighs less than a Cocker Spaniel, who discovered the Abascal Way, which is all about reducing inflammation caused by what you eat. Apparently, when inflammation is quieted, people begin to feel better.
I used to feel better. Before I stopped drinking Diet Coke.
Actually, before my trip to Hi-Wire.
In case you didn’t know, Hi-Wire is a trampoline park that has ambulances and TV lawyers parked at its front doors. A couple weeks ago I fell off a high wire at Hi-Wire.
OK, maybe it wasn’t that high. But it was a wire.
OK, maybe it was more like a balance beam.
So, I lost my balance and fell, miraculously missing the hundreds of foam bricks beneath the beam.
Instead, I landed on the rim of the foam pond, which is protected by padding the width of 2-ply toilet paper.
I braced myself for the fall using my hand, which caused an excruciating jolt that ran from my wrist to my shoulder. My hip landed squarely on the edge of the pond, leaving me with a bruise the size of South America.
The bruise faded, my wrist is fine, but my shoulder still hurts.
It’s inflamed. Which brings me back to the Abscal Way.
I started the stupid diet on Monday morning, which was Martin Luther King Day, a holiday from work. I slept in. I hardly missed the Diet Coke.
But when the alarm went off at 6:00 the next morning my head was throbbing. As if I’d consumed 6 glasses of wine and a 12-pack of Labatt’s the previous night. I popped two Tylenol, some blueberries and nuts and headed into work.
IN A FOG.
My body craving Diet Coke.
It was bad.
At 9:30 a client came in my office and began to talk to me. I noticed that her lips were moving. After a few minutes they stopped.
Was it my turn to talk? Maybe another blueberry would help.
I popped one into my mouth, swallowed, and said, “You were saying?”
The day got worse. After my lunch of vegetables and an apple I began to fade again. I seriously considered crawling under my desk for a nap. But that would have been too tempting.
You know what? I'm gonna do it. Why? Because I am not your ordinary Diet Coke addict.
I'm a Nerdling.
When I set goals I achieve them, damn it!
And if I want to stop drinking Diet Coke I WILL SUCCEED.
But then again, I am also sensitive to my own needs. And if I want a cold bubbly Diet Coke.
It's my own damn prerogative.