I want a cigarette. It’s all I can think about. It’s stupid, I know. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one. I can walks two blocks to the corner news stand and spend most of ten dollars on a pack I will throw out after lighting one and taking two puffs. It might be worth it.
I will be reminded that I had oral surgery on Saturday, and had an attack of small airway disease three weeks ago that has really just abated.
I was diagnosed with that later condition years ago but always managed to stave off an attack by taking good care of myself.
I have never been physically addicted to cigarettes; mental addictions are so much worse.
I haven’t eaten solid foods in three days, though the surgeon said I could today. Just not bagels–ha ha.
I’m gunshy about eating foods.
Then why do I crave a cigarette so badly?
Yesterday instead of watching Lifetime TV for Women or something equally innane, I wrote. I’m a compulsive writer. It’s not a good thing.
Last night and today instead of writing for myself, I found myself answering the same questions over and over again to the same two people on one of my team blogs. It began to piss me off. They’ll never understand my thoughts and I’ll never understand theirs.
I don’t understand moral absolutists who feel superior to me because they have God and good values, and I’m a Godless person incapable of argument because I don’t have a central basis for my values, but have picked up my values through reading, discussion, and from my family. All my years of schooling, all my carefully thought out reasoning doesn’t count. Oh yes, I’m totally aware how stupid this sounds.
I had to cancel a dinner invitation–second in four days becasue I was feeling weak and was scared to eat. I shouldn’t have been on the computer, I should have taken a break, but I’m an Internet junkie and a fool for blogging.
And I want a cigarette so much I can taste it.
My mood is horrible. My mind is racing to some other planet. I don’t know where this sudden urge to have a cigarette came from. It feels like a compulsion.
I’m sick of my apartment; sick of problems with my computers; sick of people who think God gives them validity;sick of people who believe that God gives their theories wisdom.
I’m sick of being psychoanalayzed by half the people on the Internet–don’t worry; i’m not a narcissist with delusions of importance. People just love to analyze me.
And I was so happy–perky even, Lucia said, this morning. But right now:
I just want one hit–I mean one puff off a cigarette. That’s all. One little puff and then I can take on the world.
Is one little puff of a cigarette too much to ask for? Yes it is.
I can take on the world tomorrow
After all I will be a better person for not giving into ungodly tempation.
Just one puff–it sounds so inviting–just one puff can lead to another. oh stop this Pia you’re not an tabacoo, anti drug ad. Yes I am.
Welcome to round 67,000 of my fight with myself. Some urges never go away. No they really don’t.