She don't lie, she don't lie, she don't lie . . .

. . . cocaine. I've become increasingly aware that I have a bad habit that has to stop. It's not good for my skin, my bones, my nutrition. I'm thankful I've never been a smoker because I don't think I have what it would take to quit. Today I'm about on my last nerve. Woke up with a migraine, took medicine and slept till ten. This afternoon the headache has been coming back.

Then there are the hallucinations. Without glasses I just thought I saw a racoon across the street; it turned out to be a rather healthy squirrel. I know I'm in the throws of withdrawal -- I can feel the violent urges welling up in me. If I see one person walking down the street in front of our house drinking a cold Cherry Coke (that's HIGH OCTANE, not the wimpy diet stuff), I swear I will beat him or her over the head to grab it. To feel the cold liquid sliding down my throat, that would be heavenly just now.

I've been off the Demon Coke for many days now, at least since Thursday. And I just don't think I'm gonna make it. For one thing, Heather will be visiting this coming weekend and you know what a slippery slope it is to spend time with another user. Even the spousal unit is behaving like the tiny devil on my shoulder, telling me he doesn't know why I'm putting myself through this. "What's wrong with that one small indulgence?" he says.

I'm heading out now for my first pottery class. Gotta wonder if I'm going to be able to summon the strength to pay attention for two hours. I might have to leave early and make a quick trip to Walmart. Yes, I'm weak. And maybe those evil Coca-Cola people never really stopped putting the "good stuff" in their beverages. Whatever. By this time tomorrow I expect I'll be riding high on the bubbly brown horse.