So, the other day I found myself in the nicotine line at Walmart.
No. It wasn't to buy that cancerous shit. I needed to stock up on some Smokey Mountain Snuff (still waiting for when Hooch is sold in stores). It's January, and my stress level is rising. Fast.
It also helps that I have baseball registrations going on. I've still got scout stuff. I'm writing like gangbusters over at
scaretissue.com (Scaretissue is Chewie's and Pip's horror site that gives me an outlet on all these films I've watched since I was little. If you're a horror fan, check it out.). Tax season is just around the corner, and Saturdays and Sundays at the office start now. There's some funk here in the 900s that's odd (input anybody? Heard from another Basterd that he is in the same place.) It also helps that things just haven't been that peachy lately at home. I have a good friend that is going through a divorce so I'm trying to be patient, but it's amazing how somebody else's failed relationship affects your own.
Anyways, my jaw has been hurting and I just can't chew another piece of gum. In order for me to stay proactive in my quit, I am planning ahead JUST IN CASE I NEED IT. I bought 3 cans. I opened one, but there is no guarantee I'll ever open the others. One will sit in my desk, and one will sit in my car. I've consolidated my gum supply (away from my 9 year old's hands), and I'll be getting a bag of salt and pepper sunflower seeds later today.
Most importantly, I posted roll today. The past means shit if I fail today, and all my badassness would mean nothing. All my words would be empty. I got a couple newbies I've texted today, and I'm pursuing my quit.
When you quit, it's not just enough to talk the talk. I've said so many words here and doled out so much advice I'd be silly not to follow my own: Prepare to be quit, and you'll be quit.
Well, I'm ready to walk this fucking walk. Bring it on.
Artist in the Ambulance