£657.00

Disclaimer: I rant a little bit towards the end. Please feel free to skip that bit.

I was dreading writing this one for fear that My Attractive Husband would attempt to make me break my habit. And my habit is pretty severe. I’ve been an addict for over ten years now, and while I’m not proud of it, I’m certainly not planning on giving up anytime soon. Still, try not to judge me. I’ve decided the pursuit of depressing-myself-over-lack-of-mortgage-deposit was a noble cause that had to be undertaken, no matter the backlash.

I’m a little bit into that sweet nectar, Diet Coke. (Everyone who knows me just let out a hearty belly laugh and said, “A little bit? How’s that for the understatement of the century? Har har har!!” And yes, everyone I know laughs by proclaiming “Har har har!!” Aren’t they freaks?) So yeah, Diet Coke. It’s my poison. It’s my go-to beverage. It’s my coffee. Sometimes, I do celebratory dances dedicated to it. So what?

I began drinking soda when I was about 16. It started with daily trips through the McDonald’s drive-thru, getting a 32-ounce cup of heaven for $1.26. (Yes, it used to be cheap, didn’t it?) When I moved to New York and no longer had a car, or indeed, drive-thru windows, I switched to cans or bottles or any permutations I could find. Around junior year of university, I was a full-blown addict. I’m not talking a 12-pack in the fridge, I’m talking a 12-pack in the fridge and four others stashed under my bed as reinforcements.

Nowadays, My Attractive Husband brings me a can of Diet Coke every morning before I get out of bed. I’d like to think this is because he’s such a wonderful man and he’s so madly in love with me, but it’s at least partially because I am a giant pain in the ass before I have caffeine streaming through my system. I drink two cans at home before work. I drink another can before lunch. I drink two Diet Cokes at lunch. I usually drink one in the afternoon before I go home from work. And I think I drink three in the evening. This brings us to a total of 9 per day (only 6 of which I pay for – I get free lunch at work, which is a decidedly awesome job perk). And that is the basis of Where My House Went today – 6 Diet Cokes per day, for the past year.

In London, I can usually get a 10-pack (they sell them in packs of 10 here as opposed to packs of 12 in the States – probably because we have little midget fridges here) for £3. They retail for higher, but Tesco typically does 2 for £6. Six cans daily at £.30 per can is £1.80 daily, 365 days a year, for a total of £657 annually.

Ouch.

[RANT COMMENCES HERE]
Now, I do not want any snotty remarks about how unhealthy I am and how I’m going to die of caffeine/aspartame/whatever poisoning, and how it’s rotting my bones, and how if you put a tooth in a glass of Diet Coke it will eventually disintegrate. I don’t care. Something’s gonna get you in the end anyway. And, if you actually DO YOUR HOMEWORK and check the caffeine content, Diet Coke has 9.6mg/100mls. Drip coffee has at least 61.3mg/100mls, and espresso has 173.6mg/100mls. So my can of Diet Coke has 31.68mg of caffeine. Your Venti drip coffee has 350 - 415mg of caffeine. And a Venti DECAF has the same amount of caffeine as a can of Diet Coke! Therefore, I can have OVER TEN CANS OF DIET COKE before I ingest as much caffeine as your morning coffee. So BITE ME.
[RANT CONCLUDED]

But this is about money, not about being pissed off that people keep lecturing me about caffeine. And £657 per year is probably not going to kill anyone – hey, you’ve got to drink something – but it is a bit chilling to see it written out like that, so clinically. £657.00 annually on Diet Coke. And honestly, it’s got to be higher than that – I mean, a Diet Coke costs about €7 in Barcelona. And what about all those Diet Cokes ordered in restaurants? Sadly, £657 is quite a conservative estimate.

There was recently an article in Closer Magazine (http://tinyurl.com/yfclzgb) about a woman who spends £4000 annually on Coke and thus has lost most of her teeth and can’t afford to buy her kids school uniforms. Now, that’s trashy and gross. As long as this woman exists, I am allowed to feel good about myself and my comparative restraint. Thank you, woman in Closer Magazine.

They’ll have to pry my Diet Coke out of my cold, dead hands. Honestly, it’s worth every damned penny.

Where My House Went: £2961.34