Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Monday, September 22, 2003

Failure of the Day: 20 days

That's how much longer I get to smoke. I got very wistful about it as I was falling asleep last night because I occasionally picture myself doing things in the future and I always imagine myself in those scenarios smoking a cigarette and then I have to backtrack and try to re-envision it without by beloved tubes of delicious poison. And then everything is like, in black and white when I picture it because as I recall from those 14 hours or so I lasted the last time I tried to quit, nothing's any good without cigarettes.

I'm not deterred though. I've been planning to quit on October 12 for well over a year and I'm damn well going to do it. I've got a doctor's appointment day after tomorrow to get my Zyban Rx and any other drugs I can get my hands on and I've about 17 different plans for the various contingencies: patches, gum, inhalers, red vines, nicotine-free cigarettes and in the worst-case scenario, cake.

And that's where I get into trouble because as everyone who knows me is acutely aware, I am also dieting. And it occurs to me that those are not great things to try and do simultaneously but what can you do?

I spent the last month making absolutely clear to Chris that he is not to bring me donuts or fried chicken or candy no matter how much I beg. He simply must help me stay strong. Tonight I told him that round about day 3 without smokes, he should expect to come home and find me sobbing hysterically, and that I will very likely be inconsolable unless he goes out that instant and brings me a pizza and a chocolate cake. And in that circumstance, he probably should bring me that.

Chris, of course, is the most supportive guy ever and bless him, he might be starting to really comprehend that I'm not being self-deprecating or cute when I tell him that his life is going to be HELL for the first little while.


Post a Comment

<< Home