...when I had to drink Diet Coke.

I made it a point to get a blog entry up today so that I could have at least ONE entry in the month of September.

I know, I know, I said I was gonna do better, but listen.  I've been living a half-life.  I have had to drink...prepare yourself, this is tragic...Diet Coke.

I'm sorry if you like Diet Coke, but it is not my brown fizzy drink of choice.  Actually, if I had my choice, I wouldn't drink any of the brown fizzy drinks - they never tasted very good to me.  But I dislike the taste of coffee more, so when I hit my sophomore year of college and absolutely could not function any longer without caffeine, I sat down and had a think about it (as the Irish would say).  I had to choose a brown fizzy drink.

I considered many variables.  I decided that if I was going to force myself to drink something, it might as well be a diet beverage.

Next, I considered taste.

I decided my limit was "mildly icky."  Root beer and Diet Pepsi were out.  Next, I considered fizziness.  After several trials, I had discovered that the fizzier a drink was, the less I could really taste it.  So that was a key variable in my decision.

And so, despite the fact that Diet Dr. Pepper tastes way better than Diet Coke, I went with Diet Coke due to the longevity of its bubbles.

But then I noticed something else happening.

So, I went back to Diet Dr. Pepper.  But this time, my tolerance increased over time.  With each passing year, I could drink more and more of the bottle.

After I graduated college, I transitioned to cans, because my life no longer revolved around vending machines.   And my tolerance continued to rise!

Predictably, I developed a Diet Dr. Pepper dependency.  It was ok as long as there was Diet Dr. Pepper.  I could drink my daily 2/3 of a can and I wasn't hurting anybody and everything was ok.

But then the unthinkable happened.

So I did it.  I drank Diet Coke.  And I didn't die.  

But I wasn't happy.  I would wander to the cabinet by the fridge where we keep the drinks, just in case somebody had decided to go to the grocery store.  But that never happened, because of the four Diet Dr. Pepper drinkers in the office, one didn't drink it enough to be seriously inconvenienced by the lack of it, one was in college (i.e. broke), one bought Diet Dr. Pepper for her house because she had a husband and stuff, and one hated going to the grocery store with a passion so fiery, it would consume every grocery store in a one billion mile radius if it were actually a tangible thing.  (That last one would be me, in case you haven't caught any of the 16, 542 references I've made to hating going to the grocery store.)

However, we were always well stocked with Diet Coke, because the one person who drinks it by choice doesn't mind going to the grocery store.

I don't know how this fits into the post, but I drew it so I want you to see it.  I'm currently obsessed with graphs, so here's a graph depicting the breakdown of drinkers of each beverage in our office.

So anyway, I drank Diet Coke.  And over the weeks, I slid slowly downhill.

But I thought I could handle it.  I thought I was ok.  Ok enough to not go to the grocery store, anyway.  I was wrong.

I could avoid it no longer.  I pulled myself together.  I went to the grocery store.

I grabbed as much as I could carry.

So, friends, I can happily report that I am once again a fully functioning member of society.  At least for another nine days.

Note: In the first "going crazy" drawing, I used "who's" instead of "whose."  I'm so embarrassed.  But I don't have a scanner at home, so I will have to bear the shame.

Another Note: I mislabeled the pie chart.  I know that's not really an accurate title.  But I can't think of an accurate title, so the title I wrote is the one you get.

An Addendum to the Previous Note:  The reason I really wanted you to see the pie chart is because it took me this many attempts to get it right: