I'd nipped down to the coast, just to read a book on the beach, as you do, and was looking forward to my early dinner of fish and chips before I contemplated the trip home, with the sun glaring in my eyes as it set over the western horizon.

I ordered a few bits of battered flathead and four potato scallops, for scallops are a much more sustainable option for a solo diner, rather than a minimum serve of chips that might go to waste unless you share them with the seagulls.

When the order came in, I grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge to wash it all down. And for a little pep to prime me for the drive.

I cracked it open once I was back on the sand, there's not a better dining room than nature's backyard, and it made that familiar fizz.

One sip and I was in raptures. It was the coldest can of Diet Coke I've ever had. And that's saying something.

For my name is Karen Hardy, and I'm a Diet Coke addict.

Which could well become a problem, for rumours that Coke is phasing out the elixir in the silver can just won't go away.

It's been just one year since McDonald's removed Diet Coke from its menu. On the rare occasion I did hit up the drive through, I could see the irony in asking for a "diet" soda alongside a Big Mac.

But it is increasingly hard to find elsewhere. Head to the pub and it's only Classic or Zero. Want a softie at the footy? Only Classic and Zero. The supermarkets shelves are bereft of the silver box on many occasions.

I'm sorry, but drinking Coke Zero is like drinking motor oil. It might slide down but there's a terrible metallic aftertaste.

I'd come at a full-strength Classic before I cracked a can of Zero. So aptly named.

I'll be honest. Isn't that the first step of acknowledging an addiction? I don't drink coffee. People think it's ridiculous that the Food and Wine editor of The Canberra Times can't answer the question of where to get a good cup of joe in the nation's capital. If a jar of Nescafe was good enough for my parents, don't be a snob about it.

Diet Coke is my caffeine fix. There might be the odd can before lunch time. Perhaps one early in the afternoon. And it does taste better in a can than it does in a plastic bottle.

Some days I think I should wean myself off it. When the World Health Organisation classified the sweetener aspartame, an ingredient of Diet Coke, as a possible carcinogen I did question my consumption. But back in my day, it was peanut butter that was going to kill you.

Perhaps "diet" has become a dirty word in this era of body positivity. I like the word diet, for me it's never been about restriction, my diet is what I eat.

But there are nil calories in a nourishing mouthful. And 140 in a can of Classic. That's about half a cheeseburger if you're counting.

If we're going to get all nutritional about it, a355ml can of Coke Zero contains 34mg of caffeine, Diet Coke is a little stronger at 46mg. See note about morning caffeine hit. There's also a little potassium citrate and acesulfame potassium in a Zero, about 60mg worth. See what I said about the metallic taste. I have the palate of a Michelin-star chef.

While there's been no official statement from Coke that I can find, it's easy to get sucked down a caramel-coloured whirlpool of forum threads about the fate of our favourite drink which was introduced in 1982.

Here's my theory. Diet Coke was originally made for men. But then women started drinking it by the bucketload. Maybe someone didn't like that? And is it men who control the premix nozzle at the pub, or the ordering at least, and just can't come at three Coke flavours taking up space, now there's Hard Solo on the menu?

Speaking of Coke flavours. Did you know there are actually more than 40 flavours around the world? Don't get me started on those sickly vanilla concoctions, but who's even tried mango, ginger lime, twisted strawberry, peach, cinnamon or guava? In Japan, apparently there's a Coke Clear which looks like water.

Give me the silver bullet any day. Nice and cold. Crack one now.