This is how an alcoholic thinks and acts. Just trade Diet Cokes for beer. This is why I feel so guilty.
I did something today I feel terrible about. I shouldn't have done it, but I was just desperate for six more Diet Cokes. I spent my last dime last night filling up my car with gas. I am only supposed to have six Diet Cokes per day as my parents say I am OCD about them. The day started with me driving over this morning to get my six cokes. Mom already had them in a plastic bag and ready at the back door. She was expecting me to come. Well, I knew Helen was cooking over there today and it was around two. I knew she would just about be pulling the meatloaf out of the oven and she was. I drove over knowing mom would be asleep and Helen would have the back door open. Easy access. I snuck down the steps to the basement and got six more Diet Cokes and drove home. I feel really, really badly right now. Like I just smoked crack or something. George is going to love to berate me tomorrow for feeling this way when I tell him about it. "You're goddamned thirty seven years old!" I can hear him exclaim now.