Oh, hell. No one said you weren't a "real" smoker. You bought cigarettes, lit them, inhaled them, rinsed, repeated. You did, in fact, smoke. But your addiction seems to be based solely on an oral fixation, which is not quite the same as hybrid oral fixation/nicotine addiction, which is what I have going on. Case in point: If Holly went to visit her mother or sister for a week, she'd just not smoke for that week. Not so with me. Being unable to smoke caused a serious problem. I've been on airplanes and had active fantasies about crawling out onto the wing to light up. For years, I have avoided patronizing restaurants that don't have a smoking section. I convinced myself that the reason for this boycott was some pseudo-political stance having to do with personal freedom ("This is America, by gum! * 'battle hymn of the republic' swells in background * Restaurants should respect my god-given right to suck down carcinogens and disburse their by-products upon hapless fellow patrons!"), but really it was because the idea of having a meal without my pre- and post-food-consumption cigarettes was unbearable. I'm on Day 12 without a smoke, and the idea that I can't just pop outside for a puff is still kind of hard to swallow. Frankly, I think I'd better stop thinking about it before I take a swan dive off the wagon.
posted by Kate at 11:39 AM link/comments
