My cold coffee.
My soda drink of choice.
It’s a part of my identity with my family and friends. A running punch-line. An ice breaker of awkward silence.
I can keep silent no more.
On my birthday this year I made a decision. One that I intend to keep.
No more Mountain Dew. Ever.
Sound a tad unrealistic? Maybe. I have tried before to shake the Dew, and while I certainly do not drink it as much as I used to, this time I feel different about the quitting. I have to change the way I live my life otherwise it will consume me. I guess I equate drinking Mountain Dew to weakness. To allowing the same-old problems and trials that hold me back from the true living of life. Now, is drinking Mountain Dew really that bad… perhaps not, but it’s a bad habit forged out of comfort, not necessity. Bad habits are made to be broken. So I say to my soul, my life, my future: challenge accepted.
Here on this blog it’s as public a statement that I can make. Consider this my dewbriety, and since my birthday I have stopped consuming Mountain Dew.
That’s 14 straight days. 7 more to that elusive 21.
Not. One. Drop.