Pepsi

Oh, Pepsi, how I love thee. I dream about you. I crave you. I drink you slowly sometimes so that I can savor your bubbly goodness. But. You don’t share my affection, do you? In fact, you are assuredly sickening me with your high fructose corn syrup and your citrate and your aspartame. And dare I say it: I have to leave you.

But how do I do that? You are everywhere. You’re in my TV, subliminally confirming that I want you. You’re in the vending machine beside the vending machine that vends the Cheetos and Skittles that I also need to, but won’t, distance myself from. You’re in the refrigerated section of my CVS, the cafeteria at work, Target. You’re even unrefrigerated in all those places as well. In bulk. And you’re on sale in Shoppers, Giant, Safeway. You even have manufacturers on your side plying me with coupons to get you for less money.

You. Are. Everywhere. I hate you. But I love you so much.

It’s not even your caffeine that I crave (I stands for my heart; my body and it are at war for my heart craves your satisfying taste while my body craves the caffeine rush, then lies and tells my heart it’s just in it for the bubbles). I wake in the night wanting you. Only you. It’s going to be a tough road ahead, this living without you when I see you everywhere I go, mocking me, shamelessly using demonic telepathy to get me to return to you.

But you know what? I think I feel better when I don’t visit with you daily. I think I am more energetic, I don’t complain about sluggishness later in the afternoon. I am a better person without you, Pepsi. My dentist agrees. And I have to start looking out for myself. What? Start tomorrow, you say? I won’t be won over by that sad excuse for…wait, are you crying? I didn’t mean to make you cry, Pepsi. Here, let me help (drink) you.

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Remarkably, I threw that Pepsi away and haven’t had one since (as I make the stay strong, black power fist to myself in the mirror).

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