Not a Happy Camper

There are these little red boxes on every floor of my building. Fundraising boxes for the U’s Scholarship Fund… filled to the brim with $1 chocolate bars. Milk chocolate, Chocolate with Caramel, Crispie Chocolate, Chocolate with Almonds. And just one single dollar. I think I’ve picked up enough of those things to have the damn scholarship named after me.

Anywho, I sit down after my healthy lunch of a turkey wrap (tomato tortilla, no condiments, fresh herbs) and decide to splurge on a Diet Coke and a couple of pieces of chocolate from a new fundraising bar. I run to the Deli downstairs, pick up said treats and head up to my desk.

I haven’t had a Diet Coke all day, been a really good girl. Coffee this morning and water in the afternoon. I am excited, nay, THRILLED to drink aforementioned soda pop. I open it, take a nice, big swig and swallow.

Ew.

It doesn’t taste right.

Now, it’s not flat. It’s not over carbonated, it’s not over syrup-y. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s ice cold, doesn’t smell funny. I shrug my shoulders and move on.

I open my chocolate bar, break off a piece and pop it into my mouth and let it melt on my tongue.

I might as well have been sucking on rubber cement for all the pleasure it gave me.

WTF?!?! My two most favorite things in the entire world aren’t tasting good. No fizzy refreshment, no creamy satisfaction… I’m at a loss.

Until I remember that my doctor said one of the side effects of my new medication is that some items (like SODA and CHOCOLATE) taste funny. Um, yeah, he was right.

No wonder one of the other side effects of this medication is that people lose weight.

Damn.