OK, it's not like life totally sucks. Work is good, and there are some fun things happening in February - Jake is throwing a surf pa`ina at Bellow's, and I'll be cooking for the Swamp Pigs again at the end of the month. I can almost forget that V-Day is smack dab in the middle of the month & that Gregory House is doing a benefit & that I might have to show up and smile or something at all the disfunctional couples who are acting happy when you know for a fact that they haven't had sex with each other for 17 months & that both are having affairs on the DL & that one is still smoking crystal even though his partner thinks he's sober.
Oops. I was trying to be positive. I almost did it.
I went back on the nicotine patch this morning. I've been in an amazing state of denial that I had started back up again, but I was having too many conversations along the lines of Are you smoking again? (no) What's that in your hand? (Oh. Hmm. Yeah). Don't you know that's bad for you? (yes I know it's bad for me). So you're smoking again (I'm not really. Only on the weekends. Sometimes). It's Wednesday (It's been a long day). It's 8 am (oh fuck off).
So I know, this is part of the reason I'm dragging. I can feel it in my system. I'm not as active. I see the change in my eyes and skin - I look older & moisturizer doesn't help. I lose sleep because I stay up too late, smoking the final one or two or three in my pack, thinking that if I only finish off this pack I won't buy one tomorrow. And sometimes I wouldn't. Sometimes I'd go three or four days without. I'd tell myself that I only smoke when I drink - so I'd pour myself a drink so that I could have a smoke.
So here I go again. Back on the wagon. Or off the wagon, I can't remember which way the metaphor goes. Get ready for a week or two more of very, very bitchy posts.
Oops. I was trying to be positive. I almost did it.
I went back on the nicotine patch this morning. I've been in an amazing state of denial that I had started back up again, but I was having too many conversations along the lines of Are you smoking again? (no) What's that in your hand? (Oh. Hmm. Yeah). Don't you know that's bad for you? (yes I know it's bad for me). So you're smoking again (I'm not really. Only on the weekends. Sometimes). It's Wednesday (It's been a long day). It's 8 am (oh fuck off).
So I know, this is part of the reason I'm dragging. I can feel it in my system. I'm not as active. I see the change in my eyes and skin - I look older & moisturizer doesn't help. I lose sleep because I stay up too late, smoking the final one or two or three in my pack, thinking that if I only finish off this pack I won't buy one tomorrow. And sometimes I wouldn't. Sometimes I'd go three or four days without. I'd tell myself that I only smoke when I drink - so I'd pour myself a drink so that I could have a smoke.
So here I go again. Back on the wagon. Or off the wagon, I can't remember which way the metaphor goes. Get ready for a week or two more of very, very bitchy posts.
1 comment:
right on bro! just give yourself until you go to europe - like it's gonna be possible not to smoke there. indulge, then cut 'em out again when you get back! that's the tom-A-hawk take. [and my basic advice is DON'T count the days (hours, minutes, seconds...) since your last smoke. that just drives you crazy + makes you want to smoke.] good luck! or fortitude! or whatever it takes... -T.
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