The Diet Soda Panic

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 I've been extremely confused and a bit stressed lately with the university year starting and I accidentally turned up two hours early for a Buddhist lecture, so I wandered around, went to see and feed my sister's and her girlfriend's cats and felt a sudden craving for something sweet. I ate two biscutis I found in their flat (pay for my hard work cleaning the cats' litter box or something) and immediately felt guilty. I'd already had a couple of crepes with chocolate spread after lunch, while my disordered mind only allows one dessert, so I knew I'd have to cut back for dinner.

To feel a bit fuller and make it easier to skip dinner later (which I didn't, shame on me, I have no control and now I can physically feel myself getting fatter), I wanted to buy a can of Pepsi Max or the sugar-free version of Cockta. I would even be fine with Coca Cola Zero. But it just so happened that the first two stores only had bottled versions of the sugar-free drinks. Yes, it was important for me to get the drink in a can, not because I'm one of those people who firmly believe that they taste so much better, but because I was about to go to the lecture, which I didn't want to disturb (or, to be honest, draw too much attention to myself) by getting up from the meditation cushion and roaming around the gompa while going to the toilet. So the can was an obvious choice, saving me one hundred and seventy-seven whole millilitres of liquid. Another reason why I was obsessively looking for a can rather than a bottle is that I know that these drinks can't really be good for me because they contain so many artificial flavours and sweeteners. 

So, as I nervously searched for a can of liquid sweetener (how shameful of me, I could have just filled my stomach with water), I considered buying a smoothie, but those things, no matter how healthy, have calories and that would be a terrible mistake as the whole point of going from shop to shop trying to find the perfect drink was to avoid consuming any more energy that day. It took me over half an hour to find (I mean, at least I did a few more steps and burned a few more calories) the drink that my disordered mind approved of. And I don't even like - pardon my French - fucking sodas.

Epilogue: I got lucky in the very last shop, when I was already trembling nervously: I had to settle for a can of Coca Cola Zero. All the stars aligned as I consumed fewer calories, but not too much sweetener and liquid, and the world was at peace.

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