*CLAP*CLAP*

 

I'm grouchy and I know it.

 

I'm on day 6 of not smoking and it really sucks.  Half my brain is screaming at me, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING???' and the other half keeps remembering that woman on the Discovery Health Channel with emphysema and the swollen, blackened portion of her lung they had to remove so she could breath somewhat normally.  And mixed in with all of that, I think about my friend Allan, who is dying from a terrible lung disease, and how dare I destroy my own lungs when I have a friend who, through no choice of his own, is fighting to save his (or get new ones anyway).

 

Now, I'm not a heavy smoker.  I smoke those little, skinny, expensive cigarettes and perhaps 3 at most per day at that.  I hardly think that's the point, however.  I've also quit smoking before.  I've done this off and on since I was a teen.  I know what to expect in quitting.  Truth be told, I'm not really looking forward to it (though I think the worst of it is over...Friday was pure hell).

 

So, luck-ducky me gets to try to not be grouchy for the rest of my life and the ducky-lucky people around me get to smile and nod and say to themselves, "She doesn't mean it...she's just grumpy cuz she doesn't have any smokes."

 

I've eaten  more Pep-o-mint Lifesavers this weekend than can possibly be healthy.  I know I'm bound to gain weight and that also really sucks.  God, I want a cigarette.  Anyone got a smoke?