Conscience — not the moral kind, but the kind that worries about my expanding waistline and long-term health — eventually got the better of me, and two weeks ago I resolved to go cold turkey. For the first few days, I was beset with nagging headaches that would build up progressively over the course of each day, as my body adjusted itself to the realization that it was being deprived of that singular combination of cheap fizz, sugar rush and caffeine buzz. By nighttime, the headaches were too insistent to ignore, and I worried that I was simply displacing a soft drink addiction with an addiction to Advil.
Above: Coca-Cola is “Delicious and Refreshing.” Lady, I believe you.
The headaches are gone now, so I think I’m ‘recovered.’ I’ve heard that reformed cigarette and drug addicts sometimes benefit from a renewed clarity of the senses once they’ve gone clean, but I have to admit, I’ve had no such experience. Beyond the personal satisfaction to be found in knowing that I’m consuming one less of an infinite number of processed food products that are continually destroying my body, there’s really no upside. I miss Coke, and there’s not a meal that goes by that I don’t think about buying, pouring or ordering a a tall glass of it for myself.