So here it is, attempt #136

I've tried to quit smoking now more times than I can count. I tried the Patch very briefly and hated it. I've tried the gum and hated it more. I tried the lozenges and they basically made me throw up. Honestly, the only thing that has brought me closest to what can be called success was plain old cold turkey and willpower. Last time I quit was under those terms and it got me 4 months of smoke-free happiness. Then I went on vacation. Did you know that cigarettes are a dollar a pack in Cuba?!? Well they are. Gawd dammit.

This this time I'm trying something new. Every shrink everywhere always suggests keeping a diary of whatever addiction you're trying to kick, so in that spirit, here's my Quit Smoking blog. Any words of wisdom you have would be helpful, so please post your comments.

Here goes nothing...

Friday, March 27, 2009

THURSDAY MARCH 26

Shitty day all around. Fever's broken and my nose is basically a snot faucet. I can't concentrate on work and nothing is holding my attention for more than a few minutes at a time. Fortunately my workload is in a relative holding pattern at the moment, so I'm not losing any time, but still, I feel like ass.

Around 11:00 or so a migraine starts to creep into my head behind my eyes. I ignore it, which is probably silly. 12:00 comes and goes; I think about heading down to grab a sammich from the restaurant in the lobby but instead say "Fuck it, save the $12" and enjoy a nutritious All Bran Bar. (These All Bran bars taste really good, BTW.) Around 1:00 I sneak out for a cigarette with Bahar and Bree, the first one of the day.

At 2:00 I'm supposed to meet Jess out front of my building so I can buy a CD and T-shirt off her to help support the Outbred Inlaws, for whom she is the drummer. I head down to the front of the building and wait, but our wires got crossed and she's waiting for me 4 blocks away in front of the Manulife centre. I wait outside for 40 minutes. During this time I don't have a single cigarette. I prolly woulda done a little dance if I wasn't so fucking crusty and hate-filled because of it.

4:30 I cave; my headache is getting redonkulous and I run down for a smoke in the hopes that it will help kill the pack of wolverines in my head who are trying to push my rotting brain out through my eyeballs. No such luck. I bail on seeing a friend play at Tattoo Rock, hooking up with them at Hoops, and chilling with a long lost chick buddy who's in from Australia by way of London for another friend's B-day in favour of couch, Swiss Chalet, Neo Citran and HD TV. Tina Fay kills the pain. I go to bed around 10 and get about 2 minutes into whatever I was watching before I zonk out for the night. During the night I'm up and awake about 5 times, each time convinced that I'll never ever get back to sleep no matter how hard I try. Each time I think that, I blink and an hour passes. I'm living a particularly bad episode of The New Twilight Zone.

Total cigarette count for the day: 2
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