My name is Kati...

My name is Kati and I’m a Coke addict. No, not that Coke. I mean Coca-Cola. It’s the stuff of the Gods. Just keep reading and you’ll know just how addicted I am.

I love the red of the can. That fabulous sound as you pop it open. (Nothing else sounds like a Coke does. Really.) That first sniff of tasty Coke smell that wafts out. The sound it makes as you pour it over ice. The slight tint of red it has when light shines through it. The way it bites with that first sip. The buzz of caffeine frolicking in your head. The classic taste of it. The last swallow of the can tastes best, I don’t know why. With pizza, or Chinese food, or French fries, or anything really. On an insanely hot day. When you haven’t had one in days. When you’re stuck in jury duty.

I am a purist, though. None of this vanilla-cherry-lemon-lime crap. No Coke floats! Definitely not diet! The only exception to this rule is Coke Slurpees. God, I love those!

De-toxing off caffeine is NOT fun. I seriously cut down on Coke just over a year ago and, at first, stopped drinking it entirely. The headaches were awful! People kept asking what was wrong with me. I lost quite a bit of weight, though. No Coke and green tea did miraculous things for my waistline.

So, there it is. My one true vice. I hear that knowing your addicted is the first step. Towards what, exactly, I don’t care too much… I’m sorry, I have to go. Like a siren calls a sailor, my Coca-Cola is calling me.