My Secret Problem

Published 27.1.05 by Porkchop | E-mail this post

I realized I have a grave and dreadful disease.

Disease is what they call it when you are addicted to liquid beverages, right? I was drinking out of the bottle on the way here, smuggled it into the office building in my purse and then poured it into my coffee cup and drank it pseudo-coffee style.

I say things like "Nothing like a bit in the morning to wake you up!" and "Goes with everything." Scary statements like that.

I have deduced that they have started putting crack into Coke products again, but since it is DIET Coke that I am addicted to, it should not be quite so harmful.

Or am I just making feeble excuses for the curses that have me so firmly in their clutches?

3 Responses to “My Secret Problem”

joy on January 27, 2005 9:41 AM

I wanted to post "I think it's hereditary because I have it too" but I couldn't think of the word. So first, I almost put "congenital" and then, I almost put "heretical." So here's to your congenital disease, you heretic!
QOS on January 27, 2005 10:19 AM

after about 6 DCs I feel like I should wrap myself up in rags, get a little bell and cry "Unclean! Unclean!"
Katya Coldheart on January 27, 2005 11:59 AM

i have the disease too...but i drink it with no fear of being hounded out of the office...just think of all the calories you are saving...(can you tell i'm dieting...lol)

This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

My Secret Problem

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3 Responses to “My Secret Problem”

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