I gave up Coca-Cola for Lent. You heard me, Coke — that most refreshing of beverages. Am I:
A. Crazy
B. A martyr
C. Seeking sainthood
Possibly. No. Get real.
This was one more woefully misguided decision, the kind in which I seem to specialize. You see, I love Coke more than socks and depend on it to survive this relentlessly unforgiving world. It’s the sweetest part of my day. Or was. It’s gone now and I’m suffering. Bigly.
For many years, the Lenten sacrifice was a no-brainer; I gave up God annually. Seemed only fair, you know? God gave up on me decades ago and for no good reason, either. Without warning or notice, the Dude closed the door, turned off the lights, and stopped taking my calls. But kept right on sending regular painful reminders of his disenchantment with me and my 
shenanigans. Broken bones, exploding organs, financial disasters, social failure, loss, deprivation, catastrophe, mayhem, and misery rained down.
No frogs, no locusts or boils, just an endless smorgasbord of crushing adversity. In the end, I was, for all intents and purposes, wiped out. I’d nothing left to lose and I was pissed. So, you know me, I had to thumb my nose; I cannot and will not allow a grievance to pass without a childish response. It’s a biological imperative.
Then something strange happened. After eleven long years in the crosshairs, the calamities stopped, the sun came out, and I rose from the smoking smithereens like a zombie from the Apocalypse — blinking and dazed and unsteady. I’ll be honest, I was more than a little proud. I’d taken direct hit after direct hit, been battered and walloped and left for dead. Except I wasn’t. I still have breath and a smart mouth that will inevitably lead to more trouble.
In an effort to forestall the, by-now, tiresome and predictable consequences, I decided to give up one of the Top Five most precious things in my world. My beloved Coca-Cola. Like any addict, I’m taking things one day at a time. There are seventeen of them yet ahead, hundreds of hours, each one of them an agonizing test of endurance.
Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going outside to fall off my bike. The recovery will keep me distracted well past Easter — if the past is anything to go by.
copyright © 2018 the whirly girl
the whirly girl 
25 responses to “: you think you’re suffering? :”
Whoa! That’s hard core lent giving upedness (it could be a word) right there. The only thing I can say is that it would have been a lot worse in the olden days when they actually put cocaine in the coke. Still, I give you credit. Hard core!
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Not just could be, it is a word. My lent giving upedness is a last ditch effort and it’s excruciating — even without the cocaine. Thank you for your support.
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She’s gonna cave. This is too much. I mean this hoes back to when it was medicinal!!! 😉
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I mean goes not hoes.
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I like hoes better 🤷🏻♀️
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I’m a-skeered. Every time I open the refrigerator the Coke winks and asks if I’d like a drink. Hallucinating is part of withdrawal, right?
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You can do this 💪🏻
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Let’s see, today’s almost over. Tomorrow should go fast. Saturdays fly. Then less than two weeks …
I’m screwed, aren’t I? 🤦🏻♀️
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I’ve Lot a candle for you 😊🙏🏻💪🏻
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Lit
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🔥
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Okay, that does it! I’m starting adoption proceedings — whether you like it or not 😘
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Hey, if you can read these without any qualms, you’re cured! Good luck …
http://adage.com/article/news/coke-taglines/302205/
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‘What you Want is a Coke’ (1952) and ‘Coke is It’ (from the 80s) brought tears to my eyes. ‘Have a Coke and a Smile’ started a crying jag. I’ll walk it off, cross your fingers. And thank you for your support!
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There’s always Pepsi … not being much help, am I? ;)
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You are, actually. Thank you, your comments mean a lot❣️
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OMG! Coke Zero is the best thing that’s ever happened to the planet! And at local movie theatres, I can get Coke Zero with vanilla flavoring and a whole bunch of other flavors combined with the Coke. There’s nothing better.
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Good, you understand my desperation. I honestly feel I should be in a 12-step program, go to meetings, confess my weakness, find a sponsor. Oy, this sheer torment 🥤
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I’m with ya.
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🤜 🤛
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I’m tellin ya…the big G is reading your blog and wailing with laughter. I think we shouldn’t give up stuff for lent. We should instead, say, commit to eating broccoli. Unless we’re a president or something.
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Aw, thanks, that made my day. Next year, I’ll do a twofer for extra credit! I’ll give up Brussels sprouts and panty hose. Pretty clever, right?
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And I thought my winter cough/cold was all a guy could stand. Well, you put me right on that and reminded me that there’s always someone worse off than yourself.
Keep counting down the coke-free days …
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Under sixteen now.
For whatever it’s worth, I, uh, may have embellished and taken some liberties with language — you know, dramatic license and all. For instance, exploding organs included a wildly hyperactive thyroid and a self-inflicted punctured lung from a bike accident. Plus, a winter cold is flipping misery :o\ Get better.
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