Bitching and Moaning

I am sad to report that Foghorn Leghorn & his drunk girlfriend made it all the way to Tennessee and back without one drunken encounter with law enforcement.  I have to believe the police aren’t trying hard enough.

On to the bitching and moaning…I quit smoking and I’m not the least bit happy about it.  I came down with some nasty virus and when I ran out of cigarettes I was too sick to go to the store to buy more.  People at work started making a big deal about it, so now I feel like I’m an unwilling participant in something I didn’t plan on doing.  It has been 9 days since I’ve had a cigarette, 9 days of hating the world.  

I started smoking when I was 43 years old.  Until then I was the most hateful anti-smoker around.  I never thought I would be a smoker, but one night at the Harribalsac I asked for a cigarette, and just like that a bad habit was born.

So for the last 5 years I’ve been a smoker.  I smoked about a pack a day for a year, then I smoked half a pack for a while, then I smoked 4-5 a day.  For the last two years I’ve smoked 3 cigarettes a day:  one on the way to work, one half way through my shift, and one on the way home from work.  Now I see no reason to go to work, no reason to take a break, and no reason to drive home. 

I don’t want to be a quitter! 

I hear previous smokers say how much better their lives are now that they quit:  food tastes better, their sense of smell improves, they are suddenly healthy and vital, unicorns fly out of their ass.  Whatever.  It’s all a bunch of bullshit designed to make their smoking friends just as miserable as they are.

I feel like punching a kitten.