Day 3 of quitting smoking

As I got into my office today, my phone beeped a message. It was James T. He said he was just waking up as he left his phone number. I imagined him stretching in bed the sheets just covering his naked body. The phone number got me through to Lorna at Meals on Wheels, when I called him back.
Maybe a little more waking up would have been in order, Jamie, rather than staring down at your hardon.
I should be perusing a relationship with him – I don’t mean boyfriends necessarily, but some kind of relationship. He's cute and smart and funny and a horny little bottom. And I don't seem to have his mobile number. Bugger!


Lovely, lovely Friday.
My head is still spinning and my cells are still screaming from all this non-smoking nonsense. I feel semi smashed, out of it, p*ssed, zonked, whatever... withdrawal, it can be a bitch.
However, it's just better not to think about it.
Dinner last night with my mum, fitting in Manny, quite literally, he, he, in between. He met me after work and I dropped him off at Camberwell train station, after I sponged him down and like the good little boys that we are, we both headed off and visited our mum's... say hello to her for me and all that.
I'm on my own today, Beck's gone to Mauldon. So, I think a little home work is in order. Perhaps my study journal.
I had the lovely James T. call and leave me a message this morning. He said he was lying back in bed waking up as he left his phone number. (The mental picture I had was...: p) His phone number was wrong, when I called back. Bugger. There is some curse when it comes to James and me and phone numbers.
Anyway, I hope this finds you well.
I have really warm feet and slightly wonky eyesight, so there you go
christian


Day 3 of giving up. I seem to be coping okay still. I've got it together not to substitute anything for the cigarettes. I've have stuck so far to my regular diet. No excessive coffees, no muffins, no cakes to fill in the gaps. Just an increase in water and the body woozes. My body is still buzzing, my eyesight is still affected, kind of slightly fuzzy. I feel kind of stoned in my body, so, as you can understand, I can kind of do a mental mind flip so as to enjoy it, kind of, close enough, after a fashion, just to get through it.
No bad, even if I do say so myself. Every cell in my body is still going what the! I'm kind of semi sea-sick or motion sickness effected. Vaseline gauze over my eyes and tired, a nicotine withdrawal kind of tiredness, that bit I can feel.
I have to take the diet very seriously, otherwise I'll take it up again when I get fat. And I don't mind so much taking it up again as I do mind getting fat.
I think there is going to be a few early nights over the next few days. And a bit of the hermit act, so as not to be tempted by any sweeties – that's sugary calorie type sweeties and not the XY type, you understand.
I think braking out the bike may even be in order for a wee ride. 31 degrees Sunday.

This is a very intense, unrelenting feeling. You want it to stop, but it’s like being on one of those adrenaline pumping rides at the show. You have to sit on the edge and hang on, you have to ride it out, it won’t be over until it’s over, no matter how much you wish, you have to endure it to it’s bone rattling conclusion.
I decided to stay home, lock myself away from everyone and just get through the next few days. One week and I’ll start to feel better. One week and I’m detoxed. I have to keep away from temptation, food temptation. I have to stick to a strict diet and not replace cigarettes with any sort of food, which so far I haven’t. I realise that in the past I’ve allowed myself to eat whatever I like as a reward for stopping smoking, which is precisely the wrong way to go. I have to be on an even stricter diet now, at least for the first week. At least until next Wednesday, or until the gnawing, body groaning, stops.
And this is giving up all smoking, nothing, niente. No supplementary joints to tide me over. This is no cigarettes, no marijuana. This is no smoking at all.

I lay on the couch and drank my soup and ate prunes and watched television. G called to see if I could get any pot. His phone cut out just after I told him that Perry and Wesley don’t sell it any more. He didn’t call back.

SMS. 21.05. Miss? What of you? – Tom

I fell asleep for a while and woke up with the house in darkness, not one light on. I quite like it like that. That intimate feeling of just the television lighting the world, late into the night.
I watched some Michael Douglas movie called “The Game.” It was interesting, despite having huge holes in the story line, which you could have driven his 7 series BMW through.

SMS. 24.00. (Tom) I’m doing really putrid farts – christian