Monday/Tuesday-ish, I'm not entirely sure on that, but I took a very serious and concerted lunge at quitting smoking.
Yesterday, chewing toothpicks until you could practically make sweaters out of all the individual fibers, I shared one with Nikki to take the edge off.
That was a little over 24 hours ago. I felt dirty about it, too, because I'd told this really beautiful smile that I was done, and had thrown the last of my pack in the trash to prove my point. Later on they'd taunted me, so I'd handed the remainder of the pack to Nikki. But days had gone by, and I'd needed a couple drags to put the agony away.
Now? It's been 24 hours since those two drags. I've almost got enough toothpicks chewed through to make that sweater, and I have this little bead-filled stressball I bought at CompUSA for a couple bucks on labor day, and it's turning out to be one of the better investments of my life. And earlier today I passed by a kid smoking outside of Databases, and the smell alone put me at peace with the world for about a second and a half, before the need set in.It's more than for the girl, though. Attempting to quit has made me realize how much more dependant on these little cancer-servers I've become. It's just another struggle.
Awe fuck, do I ever want a smoke.
-Alex
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