Okay, Attempt #?

Okay. Second day of not smoking - oh here he goes again, I hear you all sigh! Seventh day of no pot - not that pot has ever been my addiction. No, I can take it or leave it. Tobacco is my downfall.

I feel kind of warm and buzzy. Warm hands, warm feet, comfortingly so. I feel edgy, but calm. It's like slipping straight into the eye of the hurricane; while it, actually, feels calm, I feel like it could all come apart at any moment. Something is raging far away. There is the ever present threat of destruction.

I've had a cough for a week - you know that means a month, if he's admitting to a week - so, I decided something had to give. So, I gave my cigarettes to David on Wednesday night, so I couldn't wake up and light one straight off. If I just delay that first cigarette in the mornings, I can stop.

I gave up New Years Day, or around about. A few days later, as a belated New Year's Resolution. I had my last puff on a joint Jan 20th, or thereabouts, with Luke.

I started again with the bride, at that wedding, when she wanted a joint, at Easter. With Catholic priest Father Patrick, who wanted to get into my pants. "You should come and sleep over, one weekend, my son," he said, as he ogled me." He used to touch me, inappropriately, on the arse. Not that I minded, I used to play up to him, just a touch. It kind of turned me on in a perverse way, watching his vows unravel.

So, Easter was early, so that's 3 months off, 4 months on; so that's, actually, not so great.

Okay, day at a time. Let's see how long I can stay off them now?