Monday, January 24, 2005

Gonna break

I am about to go back to smoking.

I can't take it.

Today- as humorous as it is, is the three month mark for me. It seems like three fucking years.

My kids are getting to me. My life is getting to me. I can't take it.

I see people with cigs dangling out of their mouths and I want one. I want to inhale the sweet smoke and have a ciggy in my hand, and blow out the stresses of my world.

I almost told the Hubs to get a pack tonight. He is on the verge as well. We are breaking. Cracking. Crumbling.

Reason's I keep saying to myself are:

Don't get offended. This is for me to remind myself for my own sake.

1.) We will smell like ass.
I hate the smell of it. And to think of my kids smelling like it bothers me to no end.

2.) More money down the drain. When I wanna go get wings and beer with my girlfriend. I can. I don't hafta go "I can't pay tonight. I can't go..." and then she ends up paying for me and I feel like a moron. I actually pay for my own wings and beer, or my own caramel macchiato and marble loaf. Yes, I said marble loaf.

3.) The Baby. He only knows of mommy and daddy's smell. Our natural smell. Now he will smell mommy and daddy smelling of cigs. Nasty. I have a smell thing going on, can you tell?

4.) The Girl and The Boy. They don't get as sick as they used to. Usually they are getting sick every friggin month. They have been healthier than ever.

5.) Running. I can run with my kids and not have to stop because I am out of breath.

6.) Life. I don't have to one day die of a disease I caused on my own doing because I was being selfish. I can also do that eating a million donuts, but that's another entry. So, shut up.

Again, if you smoke, do not take offense. These are my own reasons.

Almost everyone I know smokes. That's another huge reason why I can't seem to think it's so bad. I mean it's all around us. That makes it hard. I see people with them dangling and inhaling and tasting it and puffing it and it makes me WANT TO HAVE ONE.


I mean I am gonna weigh like fucking 500 pounds if I keep eating like this, to curb this intensity!

So, please send a little white light our way. Even though these reasons are seemingly very important and well put together. They aren't enough for an addict.

And that's what I am... addicted in my fucking mind to a cancer stick that tastes like peppermint.


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