The Week That Was

So, it's officially been a week.
One week.
Una Semana.
The shakes have worn off.
But I am still undergoing withdrawals occasionally.
However, I have gone one whole week without a cigarette.
There were a few hairy moments.
But, all in all,
I made it.


Yeah, I'd say I'm completely fucking miserable.

It is not a good idea,
when one is trying to affect drastic change in one's life,
To try to change more than one thing at any one time.
I gave up smoking.
That should have been enough.
But no-ooo!
I had to go and be a hero.
I had to make the most harrowing time of my pathetic existence
That much more difficult.
I decided to become healthier.
As if quitting smoking wasn't enough.

I'm afraid I may have done too much damage to my body already.
The effects may be irreparable.
I'm trying to eat healthier.
I'm working out more.
Taking Floyd on longer walks.
And I've concluded this:

I'm a masochist.

I enjoy punishing myself.
I guess that's a sadist.
I'm not really sure.
I'm a sado-masochist.
Bases covered.

Here is a snapshot of the last week of my life:

As I said, I started working out more.
And it's official:
My body hates me.
I've never been so sore.
My ear lobes hurt, that's the extent of my soreness.

And as I said, I'm eating better.
Well, with the exception of Easter.
I ate like I was never going to see food again on Easter.
But I decided that there is no point in working out so hard,
If I'm going to go home and make myself a bacon cheeseburger.














Oh sorry. Just dreaming of a bacon cheeseburger.

MMM. This salad is delicious!

To skinless chicken breast I say:
What's the fucking point of your existence?
Who enjoys you?
Honestly?

The only thing that has made me happy is the stir fry.
Oh, stir fry.
Is it ok if I overload you with soy sauce and hoisin?
That's perfectly healthy, right?

I've limited myself to only a few Girl Scout Cookies each night.
Unfortunately, the weekend before my (insane) epiphany,
I got my delivery of like 6 boxes of them.
Samoas. Tagalongs.
And of course, my freezer runneth over with Thin Mints.
I also have a box of Trefoils,
But I think that was a slip of the pen on the order form.

And I've picked up a new hobby.
I've begun to yell at strangers on the street.
It's awesome.
Totally better than therapy.
I suggest you give it a try.
Pick a random stranger,
And just berate them for the dumbest reason possible.
They were looking at you funny,
Or say that their dog was about to piss on your car.
Or just lose your shit on them for no readily apparent reason,
Letting loose a profanity laced tirade that would make Lenny Bruce blush.

The last one was my favorite.


I've been spending time with my family.
And that's.... rewarding?

I never realized how much I hate them until I went sober.
I have been off of drugs for almost 23 months now,
Except for that one slip up at the Super Bowl party.
And I have been alcohol free since...
Well, the Super Bowl party. Crazy night.
And for the last week,
I've been completely nicotine free.
And I've realized something:
My family is full of ungrateful self serving assholes.
But I don't want to say anything hurtful about them.
So I'll move on.

I totally love and respect them,
But they're all fucking insane.

Is this as uninteresting as I think it is?

I'm sorry.

I just..
I could really use a smoke right now.
I would blow a hobo for a Parliament.

I would light my hair on fire.

I would eat donkey feces.




SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP ME! PLEASE!