I fought the caffeine battle and the caffeine won. It was a valiant attempt by Mama P against the largest free narcotic in the land. But alas, like a gnat going full force against a New York City taxi cab, I didn't last long. After 8 days of no Diet Coke and 5 days sans coffee, the result was a gooey, blobby, and utterly defeated me.
As I type this, I happily sip my Yuban and will rationalize my losses, which go something like this: I have learned that I can go caffeine free, but I can also walk head first into a bus -- it's just not something I want to do.
On the flip side, it is possible to use some moderation and not drink a pool size version of java per day. As much as my husband likes the bodily aromas that occur from such excess, I have limited myself to one cup of coffee in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one at night. No Diet Coke.
Now that I'm not going through depression, anxiety, hopelessness (and running myself into Kaiser Urgent Care thinking I am going through menopause), my life is feeling normal again. Which means the 'ol ambition is coming back. Which means time to start querying... (How many times have you heard that? But... like my caffeine addiction, I think I can beat my self-defeat on that, too, and score me a magazine article. What else am I going to do with all my free time away from running out for Diet Coke?)
On a home note, our TV room is almost done! Tonite we hang some curtains. Next week we Chem Dry. It's going to be about as shiny and happy around here as I feel right now thanks to my coffee.
It's so sad to say that I am addicted to how content a few little things make me feel. But perhaps in this crazy life, a cup of joe ain't so bad.