Monday, March 17, 2008

Zen and the Art of Quitting Smoking

Hour 1 (8 AM)
OK. Quitting smoking is easy.
At least those commercials make it look easy.
I just put that magnet in my ear,
and it's over?
Done?
Fantastic!

Alright.
Anyone who's tried knows it's not easy at all.
Magnet or no.
But I can handle this.
I bought 10 packs of Bubblicious:
Watermelon, blueberry, and mixed.
That should suffice.
Just in case though,
I have 5 boxes of Ludens cherry cough drops.
And a bag of Lemon Drops.
I may get 5 cavities,
But I'm quitting. It's better than lung cancer.
To hell with this.
Taking a positive attitude.
All I need is a plan,
And to stick to it.




Fuck.
I have no plan.



I'm taking a nap.

Hour 3 (10 AM)
God I love naps.
I could really use a smoke.
Oh that sweet sweet tobacco.
How can something so vile smelling be so soothing?
Or taste sooooo good?


I'm taking a shower.
That'll kill some time.

Hour 5 (12 PM)
10 minute shower turns into 2 hour bath.
Grabbed my copy of Trainspotting and I just got lost...
For 2 hours.
Ahhhh. I smell pretty.
I didn't think about smoking, either.
Not once.
Well, maybe once.
Ok, 47 seperate times.
But that's it.

However, the important thing is,
I haven't acted on those urges. Yet.

I'm going to take Floyd for a walk.

Hour 9 (4 PM)
Unbelievably, heightened anxiety has set in.
I snapped at Floyd for taking too long to pee.
It was like 40 seconds.
Just mark the hydrant and move the fuck on!
Jesus.
It's only 4 o'clock.
But I'm famished.
I need to eat.

I'm considering cooking a turkey.
But that would take like 4 hours.
And I don't have that kind of time.
Or patience.
Maybe tomorrow.
Pizza it is!
Ooh. Barbecue chicken and broccoli.
Now we're fucking talking.
"Yeah, BBQ chicken and broccoli pizza, por favor.
Oh, well, fuck yeah, I'll take a large.
And an order of chicken wings.
Sure, uh, a Dr. Pepper. The good docta.
Oh lord! Make it a 2 liter.
Lubrication is key. Ladies.
20 minutes?!?
{sigh} Okay."

Hour 9 1/2 (4:30 PM)
Where's that fucking delivery guy?
20 minutes my ass!
It's been...
almost 25 minutes already!
This is ridiculous.
5 more minutes, and I'm calling the place back.
What I will say,
I have no idea.
I'm not as good at confrontation as you might think.

Hour 9 3/4 (4:45 PM)
Fuckin A!
Where's my GD pie?
I fucking swear...
I'm about to go apeshit!
Mother fucking lazy ass stoner pizza guy,
Getting high on my ti...
All I want is my goddamn pizza!
Am I asking too much?
That my pie be delivered in a reasonable amount of time?

FINALLY!
There he is.

FUCK! Goddamn Bartlett.
Stopping in front of my house.
STOP IN FRONT OF YOUR OWN DAMN HOUSE!
Sonofabitch.

Hour 10 (5 PM)
You've gotta be fucking kidding me?
Okay. I'm no longer hungry.
I've been feasting on rage for thirty minutes. Or less.
And quite frankly, I'm about full.

WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP FLOYD!
I'm sorry buddy.
I'm sorry.
Wait.
Oh Floyd!
You beautiful bastard!
Awwwww Yeeeeeeeeeeah!
Pizza guy mofo!

This cracka ain't gettin' no tip, fo sho.

Hour 10 1/6 (5:10 PM)
Totally worth the wait, eh buddy?
I don't care if you wanted pepperoni.
I buy, you eat.
That's the arrangement.

Oh. I have never had anything more satisfying in my mouth.
Ever!
Where have you been all my life,
Barbecue chicken and broccoli?
I'd propose marriage to you,
But you'll be gone in 20 minutes.
(only to magically reappear tomorrow for a brief reacquaintance.)

Two pieces left.
You interested?
Bitch.
Aight, I'll do it.
Mmmm. Oh. Ohhh. OHHHH!
That's the shit.

Now, I am satiated.

You know what I could really go for right now, buddy?
Oh, don't give me that look.
You know you want to smoke one too.
Liar.

Ok, I agree.
We need another nap.

Hour 13 (8 PM)
I don't want to wake up.
I suppose what I could do is,
Start chronicling my shitty ass day.
The first day of the rest of my (shitty) life.

Well, surely everyone wants to hear about this.
The trials and tribulations of a rambling, nicotine deprived maniac!

Oh. I need a snack.
You know, I can see why people put on so much weight when they quit.
Eating is just something to do.
An oral outlet.
I'd eat anything right about now. Ladies.

It reminds me of the first time I quit.
I ballooned up to 300 pounds.
293 to be exact.
Oh, I'm now a svelt 215 lbs. (on a 6'3 frame.)
I try to work out as often as I can.
By that I mean, whenever I feel like it.
I run.
I lift.
It's tougher to stay in shape now,
What with me being temporarily unemployed.
"Working" as a male stripper "construction worker"
Was a workout in and of itself.
Anyway, that's another story for another time.

Hour 15 (10 PM)
Well, chronicling my day took up a good...
2 hours.
Shit.

I'm taking Floyd for a walk.
Then I'm coming home,
Taking a double dose of Tylenol PM,
Putting on C-SPAN,
Cranking one out.
And going to sleep.
Well, maybe I'll type this up first.

Because, after all, tomorrow is another day.





Unfortunately.

6 comments:

Girl Interrupted said...

Just keep in mind that no matter what, you don't want to have to go back and go through day 1 again. That kept me going. I had quit so many times, I just didn't want to have to go through quitting again so I never did!

Keep up the good work, time will be behind you in no time.

C

Adam said...

yeah, this is my third... seventh... okay, tenth time quitting for me. i am proud to be a day and a half into it, and no fatalities have occured. (intentional fatalities at least.)

Semi-Charmed said...

you just made me want a cigarette. i'm totally blaming you.

Adam said...

muwahahahaha!

Loralee Choate said...

This could have been my diary for day one off of Diet Coke. (Never underestimate the power of that lovely chemical burn. Ahhhhh!)

Adam said...

SOLIDARITY, sister!