It's nearly midnight. There are two Diet Cokes left in the house. They are behind me in the fridge - calling my name - they want to come out and dance with the uneaten cookie sitting here beside me.
It's uneaten because I already ate 7 - that's SEVEN - of it's siblings and I may vomit if I have the 8th.
Of course that's what I said about the 7th and it went down just fine.
ish.
I can't send my husband to the store for Diet Coke. He won't go. Or he will but he'll say, "Oh, I thought you meant after lunch. I didn't know you meant you needed Diet Coke at 8am - JUNKIE."
But we have the beach house this week. And there is a 12 pack down there in the fridge. So I could get up, put the kids on the bus, pack up and hit the beach. I mean WORK FROM THE BEACH.
ish.
I always say that I will go down there on the days we have it - but I rarely do. It seems ridiculous to pack up to go work there - even someplace as idyllic as the beach.
But tomorrow I may go just because it has cold Diet Coke.
Of course I'll bring the last cookie.
Who says addictions are bad for you?!
Go to the beach. It's a beach. There's an ocean. There's Diet Coke (unless someone else drank it, be sure to pick up more on the way). What else do you need? go
Posted by: joeinvegas | May 30, 2013 at 12:48 PM
Noo! NO DIET SOFT DRINKS, KAT. EVER.
Aspertame = bad.
Posted by: Matt Shields | May 30, 2013 at 06:20 PM