Confession

I was raised Catholic in the bad old days, so confession is deeply ingrained in my psyche. I'm not a Catholic any longer but I still find that acknowledging my shortcomings out loud helps me to recognize and, sometimes, to start fixing them. It's like an apology, only to yourself, with a sincere wish to do better in the future.

There is one weakness, however, that I have no intention of overcoming. I confess that I love Diet Coke™. It's not that I'm on a perpetual diet; it's that I like the taste better than regular Coke.

I like it very cold. It's best when the cola has been refrigerated and then poured into a glass so full of ice that there's barely room for the bubbles. At home, I pour them just as I like but in restaurants it's hard to convince the servers that I mean LOTS of ice.

There is nothing on earth so delicious as a Diet Coke with Indian-style curry. Don't ask me why but those flavors love each other - it's hard for me to consider one without the other.

I have thought about giving up Diet Coke for Lent (another Catholic practice that I haven't quite discarded yet) but each time I think about it, I hastily decide there must be something else - anything else! - that I could do to build my character and strengthen my resolve. This year, I have decided to read only Improving Literature during Lent. I can give up potboilers for Lent but forty days without a Diet Coke is simply unthinkable.

I drank this particular Diet Coke on Mardi Gras, the day before Lent begins, and did my annual battle with my sybaritic self before confessing that next year would be a better year in which to give it up.