Yesterday was my second day. I smoked 8 cigarettes.
Today was my third day on the stuff and I smoked 4 cigarettes.
It's like my brain has been a mad-lib all day. Every time I get bored, or complete a task, my brain searches for the next activity:
Forebrain: Well, that's done. What should we do next? Laundry? Dishes? Or scanning in expense receipts?
Hindbrain: Smoking?
Forebrain: That wasn't one of the options.
Hindbrain: But smoking is fun.
Forebrain: It used to be fun. Do you remember the last time?
Hindbrain: We have alzheimers.
Forebrain: It tasted like shit, and none of us got high.
Hindbrain: Bummer.
Forebrain: So what should we do next?
Hindbrain: Smoke?
Forebrain: ...
Hindbrain: Oh, alright..... Dishes then.
It's been like this ALL DAY. I still want to smoke ALL THE TIME, but my brain is being rather good natured about being overruled, rather than short circuiting and blowing a gasket.
Wish me luck...
Oh, and the new question from my Faux Beau is, "So when are we gonna Pulp Fiction the Inferno again?" Bwahahahaha! We got some strange looks from other people at our table at Irish Waters when he asked me that. We had to explain the basic premise, and then everyone nodded as though it made perfect sense... Though it was a brief topic of debate as to what my Faux Beau liked best about the role: The fact that he was playing the part of John Travolta, or the tiniest ever possibility that he may, one day, get to stab me in the heart with a hypodermic needle....
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