I have a habit, a demanding one, that I’ve lived with for the past 30 years. It’s seldom that I miss a day without feeding it. At times that are too close to payday, I’ve scrounged change from the sofa, the change jar, the bottom of my purse, the car. I’ve even robbed Shakespeare.
It’s good to have cash in the house for some emergency and I’ve kept money in one of my Shakespeare books since my teens. I usually consider it to be off limits but when that jones demands to be fed, Will has seen me plunder his bank. I did that today.
I quit smoking 21 years ago, I don’t drink coffee, and I’m not a drug-user. But I want my Diet Coke. Every day. Decaf is best when I can get it, but I’ll drink the leaded stuff too. What I don’t do is buy it in cans or bottles—I don’t like the taste. Made with 100% aspartame, it’s too sweet. According to Wikipedia, “Diet Coke from fountain dispensers still contains some saccharin to extend shelf life,” and that makes all the difference.
I want my Diet Coke to come from a fountain where the syrup and carbonated water mix together at the moment it’s dispensed. In fact, I used to dream of making enough money to get a fountain from the Coca-Cola Company so I could have it whenever I want, but that wouldn’t be practical.
Sometimes writers don’t get out for days at a time, depending on their schedules. Leaving to get my fix gets me out of the house and gives the car battery a chance to charge since I don’t live close enough to any store/fast food place to walk there.
I’ll drink Diet Pepsi only if there is no possible alternative. I rather liken it to the Cullens getting their vampire blood from wildlife instead of humans. They’re better sports than I am.
Today I left Mr. Shakespeare an IOU that I’ll honor this weekend.