Almost two weeks ago, I decided to take a small break from my dearest friend in the world, diet soda, and the best thing I can say about the experience is that I’m lucky everyone is still alive. I’ll save the gory details because I’m still reeling from the caffine withdrawls and, honestly, reliving the the whole thing seems about as pleasant as watching Heidi and Spencer do just about anything.
Eleven days later, when I finally allowed myself to indulge in my liquid vice, I stood in front the cold case at the service station for several minutes, debating the merits of one brand over another. After finally settling on a Diet Dr. Pepper (tastes just like regular, you know), I twisted off the cap, put the bottle to my mouth and drank only to find that the soda, my much anticipated reward for a hard fought accomplishment, was FLAT. Not a bit of fizzle, only the stale, sweet taste of a less-than-fresh refreshment.
And for that I’ll say up yours, Murphy, and your little law too.