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Quitting Smoking-The Longest 10 Minutes of My Life

Photo. Watch Out Kids, It's A Trap!


07:00 - I wonder why there would be a loud beeping sound going off, as I am hot air ballooning with Mila Kunis, only to realize it is my alarm clock. I turn the beeping thing off with my ten kilogram copy of Webster’s Complete Unabridged Dictionary. A chunk of the dearly departed clock’s guts hits my slack facial skin. It’s going to be a great day, I think, as I remember it is the first day of implementing my own Economic Action Plan by quitting smoking.

07:01 – I crave a cigarette. I would have craved one earlier but I was removing a broken clock piece from my forehead. I grab a tissue from the box to staunch the flow and try not to think of either cigarettes or the headache. I fail almost as miserably as I did at Physics 20. Stupid math.

07:02 – I crave a cigarette. I debate with myself whether a cup of coffee will help with my tobacco craving or make it worse. I also considered whether it would increase or decrease my grumpiness, ultimately deciding I don’t give a flying gawdam fig about my gawdam grumpiness and that if anyone mentions it, I will cut their gawdam spleens out and eat them. (I’m allergic to gawdam spleens so I have to chuck that part out.)

07:03 – I crave a cigarette. Decide to distract myself with my morning exercise routine. 1-2-1-2-1-2. Twenty reps. Then the other eyelid; 1-2-1-2-1-2.

07:04 – I crave a cigarette. I picture lighting one up and the wonderful surge of satisfaction one feels from that first lungful in the morning, just before the burning jabs that pummel your lungs with violent horrific spasms. Given the pain and the grossness of that morning bronchial voiding, you’d think quitting the thing that causes them would be easier.

07:05 I crave a cigarette. I’d be up and out of bed by now if I was still a smoker, I realized. No wonder we non-smokers are slug-a-beds instead of leaping out of bed smartly. We have no reason to get up since we don’t have to go light one up. I consider going back to sleep. Having just gone about seven hours without a cigarette while I slept, I would have to say quitting is much easier when you’re asleep.

07:06 I crave a cigarette. I realize what gets non-smokers out of bed and put on my housecoat and slippers to go to the bathroom. Everywhere I look, there are cigarettes. Then they turn out to be a stack of toilet rolls, white, cylindrical shampoo and crème rinse bottles or a picture of a feminine hygiene product on the side of a package.  I fear that soon, everything will look like a cigarette and I will burn the house down trying to light it for just the one puff.

07:07 I crave a cigarette. I start to wonder if it counts if I smoke, say, pencil shavings. I decide against it. For now.

07:08 I crave a cigarette. I think about getting some nicotine gum but recall how it sticks to dentures like Krazy Glue and makes it impossible to spit out, causing third-degree nicotine burns on one’s tongue and the inside of one’s lips. I decide I’d rather eat a cigarette butt. I notice my wife has thrown them all out, however. Probably on purpose. I consider not honouring her exemption from my “I hate everyone” feelings that are coursing through me.

07:09 – I crave a cigarette. I ponder why my lungs are itchy and wonder what I can do to scratch them. Maybe a long-handled, wire-bristled test-tube brush thrust vigorously down my windpipe would help.

07:10  and for the rest of my life – I crave a cigarette. They say if you crave them every day, you’re not ready to quit. Of course I’m not ready to quit! I love smoking! You think I just smoke for my health? But I also crave my lungs and bronchs not whistling and bubbling as I lay in bed.  And smelling like an ashtray. And putting holes in my clothes when inattentive for a moment with a hot cigarette ember. And the money. And. And. And. Quitting is the only answer, ands down.


Photo: Some rights reserved by Two Hawk's Eye flickr photostream, The Sage nor this article endorsed

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