Tag Archives: quitting smoking

Unmotivated

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This quitting smoking thing is seriously sucking my motivation.

I talked with Sarcastica on Facebook IM earlier and we got ourselves all riled up and motivated… and I got nothing done.

I talked with Nikki for at least forty-five minutes on the phone, and then let her go so I could get to work… and I got nothing done.

I talked to Mike for two minutes to ask him to come pick me up, then let him go and told myself I was going to get to work… and I got nothing done.

I really wanted to blog about something actually interesting or maybe even witty… but I just can’t think.

Maybe tomorrow.

Chalk it up to indecision and let's forget this ever happened

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I had a cigarette today.

A whole one.

And it tasted damn good.

I think I was just looking for an excuse to have one, because I ended up getting really mad about something and just had to have one. (In retrospect, it was probably a really bad idea to keep the near-full pack in my coat pocket. Which is why I think I really didn’t want to quit.)

I know, I know. I’m dumb. I should have just tossed that pack and kept going. Being sick tends to really make things simple: smoke and feel worse, or stop smoking and feel better sooner.

I don’t know. Obviously I don’t really want to quit. I mean, all the nicotine is out of my system so I’m not addicted anymore. It’s just that physical dependence now that’s probably gonna fuck me.

Anyway.

I had all sorts of fantastic ideas for today’s post but now I can’t remember what they were. (Which is another reason why I need a Blackberry, ’cause then I could either turn my ideas into posts right away or save them in a neat little list. It’s so annoying using my thumb to key through all those letters on my silly regular phone. Sigh.) So instead, you get the craptastic “I may or may not have quit smoking and then I may or may not have started again” post.

I know I owe some of you interviews, but my brain is absolutely blank right now. I promise I’ll get them to you soon, maybe even this weekend!

I think I quit smoking

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I haven’t really been smoking much lately. I actually went a whole week without smoking at all. Last weekend, while my throat was all sore and swollen and I thought I was going to die, I just stopped. Smoking seemed to make it worse and it also made me dizzier, so I just didn’t bother. I didn’t have a cigarette at all last Sunday and up until last night didn’t really think much about it. I thought, I’ll figure it out later and I don’t really feel like it every time I wanted a cigarette.

Then last night I smoked two, about an hour apart from each other. I didn’t really even finish the second.

This morning I took a smoke break and didn’t get past three drags. It tasted absolutely disgusting.

I haven’t really made a conscious decision to quit. I just don’t want to smoke. Does this mean I quit?

I want you and I’m hating it

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I wasn’t entirely sure if I liked Breaking Dawn at first, but I’m really into it. I won’t give anything away but if you’ve been afraid to read the last one, don’t be. Dive in. It’s great. (I’ll give a better review when I’m finished with it.)

Things are looking up on several sides. For one, my aunt and mentor called me tonight with a job. I love working for my aunt. She seems to think that she learns a lot from me, but let me tell you — I’ve learned a lot from her. Anyway, she has a client who needs a new site built, but in the meantime the client needs the old site updated. While my aunt builds her new site, I’m going to update the old one. It will just be simple data entry, with a little hard coding — a lot of which I do at my day job — but I’m not complaining. I could really use the extra money. Mike and I really want to shoot for the October 12th game in Indianapolis.

I also dyed Lauren’s hair tonight — a nice, dark chocolate brown. Then I blow dried it for her and marveled at the wonders of DNA. I mean, she got Mom’s pin-straight, easy to manage hair. I got Dad’s thick, curly, not so easy to manage hair. I’m hoping that if I ever have kids, Mom’s hair DNA will skip a generation and hit them. That would be awesome, but I don’t think that’s possible. In any case, hopefully they’ll get their father’s hair. I’ll have to make sure I marry a guy with easier hair than mine. Mike qualifies, so far. Heh.

I feel like an asshole for failing quitting smoking, but I guess I really just wasn’t ready. They say that the number one factor in success is that you have to be ready. I guess I got caught up in a couple of conversations I’d had — with Sandy and Tracy, Mike’s mom — and then a few blog entries I’d read. I tried though, and that’s all that matters. Anyway, I’m going to have to cut back on coffee this week, because now that I bought another pack of cigarettes I don’t have enough money for coffee every morning. I am such a loser. I’m actually punishing myself for not quitting smoking. I do weird stuff like that all the time. I think it really might be OCD.

I still plan on using the two composition notebooks I bought. I’ll probably bring them to work with me once I finish Breaking Dawn. I want to get started on my short stories series about Tent City before I start my creative writing class. Either way, I’ll be bringing them with me to class.

Anyway, Lauren is playing Indigo Prophecy — a game Mike gave her — and I’m really getting into it. I want to thank everyone for their support this weekend, especially Sarah! I promise I’ll get back to the “I am..” and “Ten Things I Love About..” blogs this week.

They say I’m jaded, ’cause they know it’s true

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I lasted for over twenty-four hours, so that counts for something. Right? Heh.

The way I felt was utter hell. I gave in about a half hour ago and walked to the gas station down the street. I must have looked insane, to my gas station guy and the other customer in the store.

“Hi, how are you?” My gas station guy asked.

“Good, you?” I think I sounded way too happy.

“Good, thanks.”

“Can I get a pack of Marlboro Virginia Blends?” He placed the pack on the counter. “I need a lighter, too.”

“Small one?”

“Sure.” Whatever. Give it to me.

It seemed like an eternity for him to count my change. I almost told him to keep it. I thanked him and practically ran out of the store, then lit up right outside. I’m not sure you’re supposed to light up at a gas station, but at the time getting blown up seemed a small price to pay.

I walked home, smoking and grinning. A small part of me hated myself, but by the time I got home and finished my cigarette I was feeling great. I lay down on my bed, heart thudding with excitement at the sudden nicotine.

“I’ll quit again when I’m pregnant,” I told Sandy. (She gave in before I did today.)

Mike, luckily, did not make fun of me. Though he wishes he had taken the bet. He would have won.