I've made it.
Sunday is Easter. Right? I mean, I'm not celebrating it in any way, though I'm sure my mama will leave me a basket like she usually does as she's a sweetheart like that. But my lack of religiousity means no worshipping for me.
So, yes, Sunday is Easter, and I could return to my Diet Coke-chuggin' ways. If I wanted to.
Which I don't.
I KNOW RIGHT WHO WOULDA THOUGHT?!?!
I miss it, I do. The sweet sweet bubbles, that fake sugar-sweet taste, that dark amber liquid joy...but you know what? I don't miss it as much as I thought I would, and I don't miss it enough to return to my former bad habits.
Because they are bad. It's bad for me, in the quantities I was drinking. Staining my teeth, rotting them too and also my brain and probably giving me cancer and Alzheimer's and aspartame poisoning and NONE OF THAT.
I can have the occasional can here or there as a treat, have a mixed drink while out at a bar, maybe enjoy one with some popcorn at a movie.
But I don't need it anymore.
I AM DIET COKE SOBER.