I am an addict. I’ve never been to rehab. I’ve never brought it up with my doctor. But I definitely fit the definition of someone who devotes or surrenders himself to something habitually or obsessively. What’s my poison, you ask? Diet soda.
While I’m not really sure when I picked up this habit, I’ve recently become aware of the incredible amount that I drink. For a while, I tried sticking to just one can a day. Yet, gradually, I slipped back into my old routine. First, a free refill at lunch. Then, a couple cans after dinner. A few weeks later, I found myself walking down Madison Avenue in New York City with a Super Big Gulp, wearing my medical school T-shirt and getting stares from tourists. Apologies, Mayor Bloomberg. And Harvard.