Yawn

I decided on Sunday that I've been drinking entirely too much caffeine recently, and that it's time to cut back. I have this revelation every six months or so; last time, I tried to quit cold turkey, and it was not pretty. So I thought, quite reasonably, that if I stuck to one giant Diet Coke (my big turquoise cup at work fits a little more than two cans' worth) with my morning bagel, and had water the rest of the day, it'd be a nice compromise.

Monday went fine, and I pretty much stuck to the plan, although I cheated a little and swigged some soda from the bottle in the fridge when I got home. Yesterday, I had lots of meetings and knew that I needed to have two full cups. The Smelmooo kept me honest at home, refusing to share his glass of soda with me last night. Today, I've stuck to my one big cup so far, but I'm dragging, and I'm headachy, and I'm cranky. (And, on an unrelated note, I reek of curry. Minnams and I took a co-worker out to lunch at the Noodle House for his birthday, and it was really yummy, but I cannot get rid of the curry smell.)

I suppose there are worse addictions to have (although one of my colleagues helpfully pointed out yesterday that if I don't knock it off with the Diet Coke, I'll surely develop breast cancer and die), and tons of these withdrawal symptoms are, I'm sure, psychological, but this is really not fun. And I'm no fun to be around. So, for the sake of my colleagues and my loved ones, I should just give in and get myself a refill, just so I'm more tolerable, right?

RIGHT?!

Maybe the one-cup-a-day rule will be my autumnal resolution, instead.