Happy girl



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It was 3:00 a.m. sharp, and the house was silent. The kind of silence that makes you think the world has paused just for a moment. But not for her. Oh no, not for *Diet Coke Donna*—the nickname she earned after her infamous 3 a.m. escapades.


Donna, your girlfriend and proud survivor of a stroke, had one mission in life: to drink Diet Coke like it was the nectar of the gods. She didn’t just like it; she *needed* it. It was her lifeblood, her reason for getting up in the morning—or, more accurately, the middle of the night.


You were fast asleep, dreaming of normal things like pizza or winning the lottery, when you heard it. The faint *pssssst* of a can opening. You groaned, knowing exactly what was happening. Donna was at it again.


You stumbled out of bed and found her in the kitchen, bathed in the eerie glow of the fridge light. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Diet Coke in hand, looking like a caffeinated raccoon caught in the act. 


“Donna,” you said, rubbing your eyes, “it’s three in the morning. Again.”


She looked up at you, completely unbothered. “It’s Diet Coke o’clock,” she said, taking a dramatic sip. “You wouldn’t understand.”


“Understand what? That you’re addicted to Diet Coke?”


“No,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “That this is the *only* time it tastes right. The fizz is perfect at 3 a.m. It’s science.”


You sighed, leaning against the counter. “You had a stroke, Donna. Shouldn’t you be drinking water or something?”


She gasped, clutching her can like you’d just insulted her firstborn child. “Water? WATER? Do I look like someone who drinks water? I survived a stroke, and I’ll survive you trying to take my Diet Coke away.”


You couldn’t argue with that logic. So, you just shook your head and went back to bed, leaving her to her midnight ritual. As you drifted off to sleep, you heard her whisper to the can, “It’s just you and me, baby. Forever.”


And that’s how you learned to live with Donna’s 3 a.m. Diet Coke addiction. After all, if she could survive a stroke, she could survive anything—including your judgment.

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