This plan failed me yesterday.
In all eighteen years of my life, Dr. Pepper has done nothing but good things for me. It’s gotten me through bad days; it’s saved me from headaches; it’s woken me up in the morning. But yesterday, it hurt me, kind of.
James got me a 32-oz Dr. Pepper with breakfast, and I believe wholeheartedly that it is the highest of sins to waste Dr. Pepper, so I was nursing it rather heavily while doing things on my laptop before work. I looked at the time and realized I had to get ready to go to work, and when I got up, it was like ten pounds of lead were in my stomach. I felt sick, had drank too much, and went to the bathroom but didn’t feel any better. I got ready, and when we were pulling out of the driveway, I threw up. Pure Dr. Pepper. I puked Dr. Pepper. It was still fizzy. So that was weird.
I didn’t throw up after that, but I did have to go to the bathroom to empty my stomach’s contents a few times. I was fine after I started working. I refuse to accept that it was the Dr. Pepper’s fault; I was the one who drank too much. I normally only drink a can a day, as soon as I wake up, so it was my fault for pushing it. Dr. Pepper is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I do not blame it. But it is important to document this, so I learn from my mistakes.