Dear Little Bald Bastard,
  I need lots… LOTS of caffeine to get me through my day, but I’m pretty sure that all that coffee is eating a hole in my stomach. Any thoughts on a cleaner delivery system?
- McTwitchy

Dear McTwitchy,
  If you like your addiction to be warm in your belly, tea is the obvious answer. It’s available in many different varieties, it smells lovely when you’re brewing it and it’s amenable to the same milk and sugar modifications as coffee. As a bonus, steeping each cup individually provides an easy way to regulate the strength of each dose. You can choose a gradual comedown or a drastic crash when you’re ready to switch back to your resting heart rate.

  If the thought of drinking tea brings up uncomfortable memories of friendless weekends spent holding tea parties for discarded dolls and broken action figures, consider switching to soda. The upside, if the advertising is to be believed, is that you’ll be instantly happier and more popular, and your thirst will be so thoroughly quenched that you’ll be able to water plants with your mind. The downside is that soda doesn’t pack as much caffeine per dose, and it’s loaded either with sugar or foul-tasting artificial sweeteners that coat the tongue, making it impervious to pleasant tastes for decades.

  If you’re on the verge of injecting pure caffeine into your eyeballs, you’ll want to try one of the approximately 80,000 “energy drinks” that have flooded the market lately. They’re like soda in the sense that they’re carbonated and best served cold. Unlike soda, they may also contain some amount of a dubious “herbal” stimulant, and they don’t even pretend to taste better than llama urine. They’re also sold in smaller containers, presumably because the caffeine content of a soda-sized serving would kill a rhinoceros.

  No matter how desperate for a fix you are, resist the urge to drink the new Game Fuel variety of Mountain Dew. It has a decent caffeine content, but it tastes like I imagine antifreeze would after being vomited up by a large dog.

  As a helpful Livejournal user pointed out, my statement that single-serving energy drinks are sold in smaller sizes than soda ignored the existence of the humble 12 ounce can. While I can honestly say that I drink soda exclusively from 20 and 24 ounce plastic bottles, my ignorance is no excuse for so casually dismissing a whole group of containers. These valuable receptacles hold soda and beer with equal aplomb, and I made a terrible mistake when I overlooked their contribution to the portability of our society’s beverages.

  I’d like to issue a public apology to the Aluminum-American community. I will endeavor in the future to be more sensitive to the needs and concerns of our recyclable cousins. I sincerely hope that my unfortunate lapse in judgment will lead to an open dialog about the size, shape, composition and contents of our drink containers, that will allow us all to be more understanding of containers that are different from our own. Thank you.

My primary caffeine delivery system is soda. I only resort to coffee very occasionally, when I’m particularly exhausted and I have to resort to drastic measures.

Coffee is obviously more efficient, since it’s richer in the hyperactive ingredient. Unfortunately, I’m unnaturally sensitive to hot liquids. Freshly brewed coffee has to sit for a long time before I can drink it. Iced coffee is fine, but it winds up being so diluted by water that it’s mostly useless. Also, coffee breath is perhaps the foulest oral stank that one can achieve short of a gangrenous tongue.

The problem with soda is, of course, the metric buttload of empty calories in each serving. As I fall rapidly into my mid 30s, my metabolism has finally started to fail me. My midsection is turning into honky pudding, and there’s a slab of flesh under my jaw that’s threatening to envelop my chin.

For the sake of my health, my wife’s visual environment, and my dwindling supply of pants that fit, it’s time for me to cut out some of the gratuitous high fructose corn syrup. And don’t talk to me about diet soda. If sugar cane could urinate, it would taste exactly like diet soda, and it probably wouldn’t linger on the tongue for quite as long.

Difficulty: I’m still in law school. When I was only working full time, I’d almost completely cut out caffeine, but the pressure of law school reawakened my jitterbug in a big way. I’m working over the summer, but classes start again in late August. I can’t predict what will happen once I’m back to that grind.

Because you’re no doubt curious it’s my blog and I’ll write about whatever stupid, solipsistic topic I want, I’m going to start tracking my progress as I try to wean myself from the caffeine habit. I’m sure it will be riveting slightly less boring than trimming your own nose hair. Stay tuned.

Trying to hack out my first soda-free day went surprisingly well until the middle of the afternoon. I drank about 36 ounces of water, and only missed the sweet taste a little.

Okay, it was a lot. An awful lot, actually. No matter how many times you drink it, water doesn’t taste good. It just tastes like wet. I think I drank so much because I kept hoping that the next sip would be sweeter. It wasn’t.

Around 3 pm, things went rapidly south. I started to have trouble focusing on the screen in front of me. Blinking turned into several seconds of closing my eyes, and my head took on a definite downward trajectory.

I tried getting up and walking around, but it didn’t really help. There’s a limit to how vigorously one can exercise in an office suite shared with 20 other people. So, I gave up and shuffled over to the soda machine for a 12 ounce can of cola.

Even though I failed, I’m calling it a partial victory. I just about halved my average daily consumption, and didn’t actually fall asleep for more than a few seconds. These are the only marks in my win column, people. Let me enjoy my pathetic accomplishments.

After another not-so-hot night’s sleep, I once again gave in to the sweet siren song of soda. It was a fountain drink, so I loaded up on ice. I feel approximately 34% less guilty than I would have without ice.

This quick sketch sums up my day before that. Beware of impossibly exciting shenanigans.

I haven’t been writing about my battles with caffeine (and empty calories) lately because there hasn’t been anything to report. I’m sure a better writer could have made almost two weeks of nothing into something interesting. Maybe made a point about how mundane struggles and small, uninspiring moments eventually add up to a life story. If only I was one of those “talented” people you hear so much about.

Like I said, it was a whole lot of nothing. There weren’t any inspiring victories. I didn’t manage to climb a mountain, cure Cancer, or completely kick the soda habit. I cut down a good deal, but it wasn’t anybody’s idea of cold turkey. My poultry products were lukewarm at best.

Unfortunately (for narrative purposes, anyway), there also weren’t any dramatic reversals. I didn’t wake up in the doorway of an abandoned theater with an empty three-liter bottle of store brand cola jammed up my ass and a two day hole in my memory. I didn’t knock over a delivery truck, drive it out onto the desert and snort soda syrup until I induced diabetes. I had a couple of cans here and there, but I didn’t fall back into my old (two weeks ago) soda-drinkin’ ways.

Until yesterday.

A few days of hot, swampy Philadelphia weather, a noisy window air conditioner and some stress-related aches and pains conspired to keep me from sleeping very well. I survived all weekend on grape juice and water, but coming back to work on Monday was the (really badass) straw that took out a 10 pound sledgehammer and pulverized the camel’s spine. I fell off the wagon. Into a ravine. Where I promptly drowned in a river of high fructose corn syrup.

As we speak, I am draining the last drops of a fountain soda that I got with my routine sandwich. The neglected sweet sensors in my tongue are buzzing with excitement, as I’ve kept them at speed for about 24 hours now. I have to convince myself that this is a temporary setback, rather than proof that I’m too weak to change even this small facet of my (shallow as a pond in a drought) character.

Crap. I just realized that this actually is the most interesting thing happening in my brainpuddings right now. How sad.