<\/p>\n
this blog began as a section on my site called “Infinite Diarrhea” which I took down very shortly after starting it because \u2026 people were reading it. This, in turn, was causing problems in my already failing marriage \u2026<\/i><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Messed about with cigarettes again, recently.<\/p>\n
I’ve been mooching around 3 a week from a fellow down at the record store but hadn’t fully slipped until my birthday when I made the foolish mistake of buying a pouch of Drum, along with a bottle of Buffalo Trace as a sort of present to myself.<\/p>\n
Yeah, great.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I only rolled around 5 or 6 smokes over a two and a half day period before leaving the works on a bench in front of the supermarket. I just set it down and walked away, figuring I was done, that was it.<\/p>\n
Well, last week I bought yet another pouch of Drum and this time I kept it quite a bit longer – at least four days – then, this Tuesday when we picked up Mom at the airport, then went to Sharon’s orthopedic appointment, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of jonesing for a cigarette around two people whom I didn’t want knowing I smoked. So, when Sharon went in to have the bandaging removed for the first time since the accident, I begged off, claiming a very real squeamishness, then slipped downstairs for a surreptitious smoke.<\/p>\n
It wasn’t very good, doing little more than making my weakish hangover swell in strength, increase my unreasoning hunger, and shorten my breath, so I stubbed it out before it was even done and went inside for an americano.<\/p>\n
Back inside the orthopedic waiting room, I sat next to a fake plant in a large ceramic base and watched as an old woman shuffled in, clutching desperately to a walker. A tank of air rode before her in the walker, its gaseous output snaking via a plastic tube up the old woman’s nostrils.<\/p>\n
After her daughter helped her to sit, I watched as she gasped silently, as if having just finished a hundred yard dash instead of a ten-foot walk; a withered fish beached and reminding me so much of my own grandmother who suffered a similar fate.<\/p>\n
What the hell was I doing smoking again? Did I want to end up like this helpless old woman, wheezing over an oxygen bottle she was likely too weak to pick up without assistance?<\/p>\n
I reached into my pocket and grasped the pouch of Drum, dropping it behind the plastic plant’s porcelain pot to lie hidden until they decide to rearrange the waiting room.<\/p>\n
I felt a thrill of triumph. Once again I had managed to overcome my weak will, my foolhardiness. Once again I had triumphed over the demon nicotine.<\/p>\n
Today I mooched a cigarette off Vern.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
this blog began as a section on my site called “Infinite Diarrhea” which I took down very shortly after starting it because \u2026 people were reading it. This, in turn, was causing problems in my already failing marriage \u2026 Messed about with cigarettes again, recently. I’ve been mooching around 3 a week from […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[526,525,527,203,524],"class_list":["post-1189","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-autobiography","tag-addiction","tag-chewing","tag-habits","tag-nicotine","tag-smoking"],"yoast_head":"\n