another quitting failure

As i predicted, I failed to quit smoking on friday. i just didn’t feel any commitment. as soon as I arrived in Racoon City to report to work, I hit the luncheonette and bought a pack of newports.

 

My poison is Kools in the box, considered the roughest of menthol cigarette. But I think these newports are made from some soviet-era tobacco they found in a sunken container ship.  They taste so bad that they were making me nauseous. of course, not nauseous enough to not smoke.

 

On the way home, I passed the old lady who works for an office in the basement of the building. She’s about one hundred years young, and is complete dehabilitated. However, she hobbles back and forth all day between her workstation and the back door of the building to catch a smoke.

 

I said to Geena, “there’s our future if we don’t stop smoking.”

 

And so Friday morphed into Saturday and I smoked more packs of stale Newports. Eventually, my stomach started bothering me my lungs grew heavy.  by Sunday, today, I just gave up and got another pack of Kools.  Cold turkey, tomorrow, for sure.

 

Coffee’s been really upset about the whole smoking business. I asked her to me a pack of smokes when she was out. she was real extra pissed when she had to pay about nine bucks for them.

 

So, as I type this, I’m sleepy, my lungs are on half speed, and I’m trying to build up the strength to quit, again.

 

Funny thing on Saturday night.  I was on the couch, surfing as I do, and I looked over at the other end of the couch. there was my little boy cat, sleeping peacefully. I thought about how the smoke hurts his little eyes. how much healthier we’d all be if I didn’t smoke. Maybe that’s the image I’ll use tomorrow.   

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