Tuesday, February 2, 2010

An Open Letter

Dear Diet Coke,

I just wanted to drop you a note and tell you that I miss you. A lot. I know we haven't talked in a while and I'm sorry. I have to cut you out of my life for a short time and trust me, it is hurting me more than it could possibly hurt you.

I hope you know that I'm remembering the good times and all the happiness you have brought to me. In college, you were always there, sitting beside my two tacos and curly fries from Jack in the Box. You picked me up when I was ready to die from a night of having too much fun. You pushed me along to class, to work, and to wake up before noon.

In law school, you were right by my side whether it be in class learning about the rule of perpetuities or sitting at the library at midnight trying to figure out the mailbox rule. You never left me, even when I was trying to stay awake on my drive to downtown Los Angeles to work at the District Court. You even held my hand as I tried to concentrate on writing briefs, while trying to ignore my pounding Chardonnay headache at the same time. And don't get me started on taking the bar, even though studying was horrible, we were in it together.

As I became a lawyer, you made sure I could get through the 3 p.m. slump after doing mindless legal research for hours. And when a partner gave me a rush assignment, you were there to make sure I could get through it. It's hard to see you now, sitting in the vending machine in my office, all chilled and delicious. I want to reach out to you...but I know this is for the best. It is especially hard to see you in the hands of my husband, I can't stand to see others enjoy you when I can't.

Please know that we won't be separated forever. I'll be back to you soon. The day will come quickly when you will be getting me through a tough morning after a night of 3 a.m. feedings. I'm looking forward to that day, I hope you are too.

Always thinking of you,


1 comment:

  1. I am ROLLING on the floor with this one and that is ONE HUGE THING I am going to miss when I walk the long green mile of pregnancy.