Heeeeeere’s Johnny!

It is with great pride, and a bit of a humble brag, that I announce to you the triumphant return of “Adventures In Not Smoking.”


Yes. It’s back. I’m going to kick the habit this time, and I don’t mean a nun in the head, either. I mean smoking. Why the sudden vigor and zest? Well, again, health, but also, it’s uh…work mandated now as part of our health insurance. “Hey, you want to keep smoking? That’s cool; we’ll just drop you down a tier in your health insurance plan, so instead of getting the shaft, you’ll be getting the shaft AND the foot up the ass.”

Which brings me to tonight’s tale. I enrolled in a tobacco cessation program, and part of the gig is to speak with a health coach. It’s like a life coach, but with your health (duh).

My first consultation was this afternoon. I got the call, and excused myself to one of our empty patient rooms, and closed the door behind me. I can only imagine what my co-workers thought about me taking a “secret phone call” and then shutting myself in a room.

My coach’s name is Stacee, and I’m smitten with her. She is the greatest thing ever. I think we spent most of our 20 minutes on the phone laughing interrupted by bursts of business talk.

First of all, she was calling from the south, so she had a charming accent. Points awarded immediately.

Second, she was just a sassy woman. I love sass, as I, too, am well versed in sass. We got along famously.

My favorite part of the interview was when she asked me about my smoking past. I gave her the shpeel–“social” smoker since age 20, then regular smoker 2 years ago. Like I knew she would, she asked, “what changed that made you start smoking more frequently?”

“Well, Stacee, it went down like this: started having marital problems.”

“Oh LORD HAVE MERCY,” she exclaimed. “Men are the WORST!” Obviously, Stacee has had some boy troubles, as well. More points awarded to her.

Again, I can only imagine what was going on in my co-workers minds, as this brought a huge laugh from me, and as I said earlier, we laughed for 15 of our 20 minute conversation.

So, we came up with a game plan, and I gotta tell ya, I like it. I like it a lot. Stacee with two e’s asked me to name my 5 best cigarettes of the day.


1. First thing in the morning, while I let Blue outside to use Mother Nature as a toilet.

2 and 3. On my way to work.

4 and 5. Lunch break.

Stacee with the two e’s suggested this–remove one of those, and cut back on the rest. So, no more smoking before work, as that will also save me some time getting ready for work, and only smoke one going to work and on lunch.

It seems so freaking simple that it can’t work. But as Occham’s Razor says, “the best answer is always the simplest.”

I speak with Stacee with two e’s in two weeks time, so hopefully, I can report back to her that I’ve been able to stick with this plan.

That’s it. That’s all I have.

To Adventures In Not Smoking!

Brain Vomit

Gross title, but this is what needs to happen at the moment. I have so much crap swirling around in my grey matter, that if I don’t release it, I’ll never be able to move forward. I’m purging my thoughts. I feel kind of like a boner for doing it via blog, but fuck it.

And yes, I just said “boner” and “but fuck.”

Ready? Here we go…

1. One year ago, I was stupid. More than stupid; I was a giant fucking idiotic imbecile. I shared the same brain capacity and I.Q. as the pair of socks that are on my floor right now. Stupid. So, so, so, so, so stupid. Why was I such a moron? Well, let’s see: how about getting arrested for a DUI and quasi-cheating on my then-husband? How does that grab ya?

Perhaps it’s the fact I’m approaching thirty-years-old that I’m having a sudden influx of maturity, or finally accepting my actions of the year prior. Either way, I’ve been beating myself up over this for a few weeks now. I haven’t been sleeping well, I’ve been consuming a touch more liquor than I should be, which IRONY ALERT, is how I got in the mess of one year past to begin with.

Here’s a little timeline to illustrate my retardation:

trouble at home —> drinking more —> befriending a guy who made me feel “special” —> getting shitfaced drunk with said guy 5 out of 7 days a week —> DUI —> almost lost job —> lost husband —> went to mental ward due to “stress related issues” —> rehab for alcohol —> kind of started getting shit together —> doing fairly well with certain aspects of life —> March rolls around…would have been 8 years married, enter mini-freak out —> April rolls around…remembering stupidity from last year, insert another mini-freak out —> May rolls around…trying to tell myself I’m an okay person, everyone makes mistakes, blah blah blah.

Seeing it all laid out like this…sigh.

2. I am broke. Like, broke broke. And not in a metaphorical way, either. We are talking monetary-wise. I cannot get my head above water. Even though Jason was only working part-time and bringing in little income, that was still money. Now, without his share, it’s rough. I am terrible with money. I should not be allowed to have any.

3. Gaining weight. About 3 years ago, I lost 60 pounds. I did not lose it hard enough, because I have found thirty-five of those pounds again.

4. Sporting an impossible crush.

5. My dog has a licking problem.

6. Turning 30 in a little less than two months. Enter Three Decade Crisis. See previous points as to why I’m in crisis. I need to take control of my life, I need to be responsible, and I need to do it post haste.

7. General funk. I need a change. I’m scared of change. I’m a walking contradiction.

8. Because of all of the above consuming all of my free brain space, my creativity is suffering. I haven’t written in a while, and this doesn’t count. This is brain purge in an effort to regain creativity. A plea, really. I have ideas, but I’ll be goddamn if they present themselves as anything other than fleeting thoughts. Sigh again.

And that about does it. Thanks for muddling through this, if you did. I realize I sound like a whiny wanker, but goddamn it, it kind of helped, so thank you.