Sunday, November 14, 2004
Pushing shoulder to 2 foot overhead.
I've now gone 14 hours without smoking. I broke down and had one cig yesterday.
I AM GOING !@#@! NUTS. I'm talking to my cat. I'm screaming at the walls. Every 10 minutes my subconcious comes up with a new reason to get in the car, drive 4 miles, and buy a pack...
so, if I can somehow maintain the conviction to drive through the felton faire mall with my wallet intact, it's a twisty but store free route to the beach... once on the beach, I should be set for a few hours....
UPDATE
25 hours, no nicotine. I passed into unproductivity a short hour after I returned from surfing. Surfing was GOOD. I only thought about smoking every 20 minutes instead of every minute. I think I'll go again tomorrow.
If somewhere, someone was to ask me what I'm doing now, I'd say: "Not smoking."
F**k the business plan. F**K the appointments. F**K the code. Just don't smoke. I have some business correspondence to complete - nahhh... in the morning.
The highlight of the evening: Radio Paradise played the Beatle's Golden Slumbers - the entire side.
"And in the end...
the love you take is equal to the love you make."
I finished off two candy bars, no discernable effect on the jones. I had set up the crock pot for a nice dinner, barely tasted it. Finished off "Gorillas in the Mist", while simultaneously reading a book. Paced. Tried to lay still longer than my cat (actually, I won that battle). Now it's 9:15, I'm wide awake, and I hate everything.
I hate joe camel. I hate RJ Renolds. I hate them primarily because they make my teeth yellow and my breath bad - but right now I'd love them both if a delivery truck came to my door with several pounds of black cavendish. That's what's keeping me going the next 10 hours or so - that I flat out refuse to smoke a cig again, if I'm going to fall off the wagon it's gonna be something with style...
I'm glad it rained this week. Otherwise there would be a butt somewhere on the ground that I could shape together for that fix that I need.
¶ 10:33 AM
I've now gone 14 hours without smoking. I broke down and had one cig yesterday.
I AM GOING !@#@! NUTS. I'm talking to my cat. I'm screaming at the walls. Every 10 minutes my subconcious comes up with a new reason to get in the car, drive 4 miles, and buy a pack...
so, if I can somehow maintain the conviction to drive through the felton faire mall with my wallet intact, it's a twisty but store free route to the beach... once on the beach, I should be set for a few hours....
UPDATE
25 hours, no nicotine. I passed into unproductivity a short hour after I returned from surfing. Surfing was GOOD. I only thought about smoking every 20 minutes instead of every minute. I think I'll go again tomorrow.
If somewhere, someone was to ask me what I'm doing now, I'd say: "Not smoking."
F**k the business plan. F**K the appointments. F**K the code. Just don't smoke. I have some business correspondence to complete - nahhh... in the morning.
The highlight of the evening: Radio Paradise played the Beatle's Golden Slumbers - the entire side.
"And in the end...
the love you take is equal to the love you make."
I finished off two candy bars, no discernable effect on the jones. I had set up the crock pot for a nice dinner, barely tasted it. Finished off "Gorillas in the Mist", while simultaneously reading a book. Paced. Tried to lay still longer than my cat (actually, I won that battle). Now it's 9:15, I'm wide awake, and I hate everything.
I hate joe camel. I hate RJ Renolds. I hate them primarily because they make my teeth yellow and my breath bad - but right now I'd love them both if a delivery truck came to my door with several pounds of black cavendish. That's what's keeping me going the next 10 hours or so - that I flat out refuse to smoke a cig again, if I'm going to fall off the wagon it's gonna be something with style...
I'm glad it rained this week. Otherwise there would be a butt somewhere on the ground that I could shape together for that fix that I need.
¶ 10:33 AM
