Well, I’ve given up.
It’s 8:39 A.M. and I have downed the better part of a 32 oz McDonald’s Diet Coke.
This is not my finest hour.
I decided that I had proved my point. After all, I wanted to know that I could give it up if I wanted to’that I was not powerless over caffeine. And right now, I’m choosing to drink Diet Coke. But I can give it up anytime I want to. And the fact that I have more in common with Cleopatra (the Queen of Denial) has nothing to do with it. The important thing is that I am not caffeine’s bitch. This is just like the time that ‘The Blair Witch Project’ made me throw up in the movie theatre in front of Kim V (which is just so awful and horrible and I am forever in her debt because she was so cool about it. I’d rather take off all my clothes than throw up in front of someone. How humiliating). I had to go to the movie a second time, just to prove that I wasn’t some pansy-assed motion sick freak.
So now that I’ve proven that I can do it, I’ve decided that I would instead reserve my energy and willpower for more important tasks, such as rolling incredibly large boulders up hills or having my liver eaten out by ravens.
Damn. Diet Coke is gone. Headache starting already.
How awesome is Esteban? Well, let me tell you:
First off, he sent me roses at work yesterday. Guys: if you want to increase the impact of flowers for your female-type person, send them to her at work, where all of her co-workers can crowd around her and ‘Ooooh’ and ‘Ahhh’ at them. That’s all we want. It’s really pretty simple, actually, and I can hardly believe that I have to spell it out, but so here it is. And Esteban has that figured out. And no, I wasn’t mad at him and it wasn’t for anything special. He said I sounded sad when he talked to me on the phone during lunch (in actuality, I was probably almost in a coma at that point, as it was pre-sugar rush). What a sweetheart.
Then, he cleaned out the refrigerator and cleaned out all of the ucky Tupperware containers and everything. Then he took out most of the garbage.
I am so darned lucky.
Maybe he’s feeling guilty as he’s leaving again today for another four days. First Banff, now Milwaukee. I’m going to go down and spend the weekend with him though, so that should be fun. I’m still darned lucky.
I love caffeine. MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
sound of Weetabix kissing her icy cold bottle of Diet Coke
(Cue music of Hyper Addiction, Camera pans to seductive bottle of Diet Coke with luscious little water beads, just within reach of Weetabix’s twitching hand)
One of the perks of working with a lot of manufacturers: sometimes they send in new products. Today, we got a package of Pepperidge Farm cookies called Bliss.
There has never been a more accurately named product in the history of the world.
Think really fancy Oreo cookies but the cream doesn’t taste like lard.
If you see them on a grocery store shelf, run very quickly away because before you know it, you will be selling your firstborn child for yet another package of Bliss cookies.
They’re almost better than caffeine. They taste better, but don’t have the kicky side effects. Maybe if I crumbled some Vivarin on top, I’d have the perfect mid-morning snack.
Yep. Not my finest hour.
Have you read these?
Yea, though I walk through the valley of sleepiness, I feel no grogginess. My Diet Coke comforts me.
Do they make caffeinated air???
How ’bout if I just cut back on onions, olives and liver instead?
Prithee, fine squire, shut the hell up?
Sort of like “A Star is Born”, but with Dirk Diggler
Now with 45% more RIBOFLAVIN!!!
Convenient Feminism: the religion of the Gen X woman
