Life Without Cigarettes (Part 53)
Apr. 26th, 2007 04:27 pmThe bad thing about not smoking is that I don’t have an excuse anymore to stand outside and spy on the ocean.
I mean I could go outside for the express purpose of viewing the ocean, I suppose, but that feels decadent somehow, going outside to look at something just because I want to look at it as opposed to going outside to prime my alveoli with gaseous carcinogens.
Not smoking’s been even harder since Ben’s been in Mexico. Ben is kind of the yardstick – we quit smoking on the same day but then he started up again three days later.
“I’m not smoking that much,” he’ll say. “And I really don’t take that many puffs – it’s more like I hold the cigarette between my fingers while it burns down.”
Yeah. Uh-huh. Right.
When Ben’s not around, there’s no one to feel morally superior to. Plus I know where he keeps his stash. It would be oh-so-easy to snag his cigarettes, smoke them all. Of course then I’d have to go to the store to buy a pack to replace the ones I’d smoked and after I replenished his stash, I’d have all these extra cigarettes lying around and it would be a shame to waste them, wouldn’t it? Think of all those starving children in India whose misery is accentuated because they don’t have cigarettes! I’d have to smoke them, it would be my moral obligation. And after that I would think, Well, this is kind of fun. There’s no reason why smoking can’t be like drinking, an activity to be indulged in moderation. A vodka Collins, a nice Camel Wide… And nicotine is good with breakfast cereal too; in fact, a little known fact about nicotine – little known because I just made it up: it actually enhances the tooth-whitening properties of Crest –
Pretty soon you’re on your tush sliding down that slippery slope into actual drug-seeking behaviors (as the literature so quaintly dubs them.)
No, I can’t let myself smoke. Not even a single cigarette. Not even one tiny drag.
Damn it all.
I mean I could go outside for the express purpose of viewing the ocean, I suppose, but that feels decadent somehow, going outside to look at something just because I want to look at it as opposed to going outside to prime my alveoli with gaseous carcinogens.
Not smoking’s been even harder since Ben’s been in Mexico. Ben is kind of the yardstick – we quit smoking on the same day but then he started up again three days later.
“I’m not smoking that much,” he’ll say. “And I really don’t take that many puffs – it’s more like I hold the cigarette between my fingers while it burns down.”
Yeah. Uh-huh. Right.
When Ben’s not around, there’s no one to feel morally superior to. Plus I know where he keeps his stash. It would be oh-so-easy to snag his cigarettes, smoke them all. Of course then I’d have to go to the store to buy a pack to replace the ones I’d smoked and after I replenished his stash, I’d have all these extra cigarettes lying around and it would be a shame to waste them, wouldn’t it? Think of all those starving children in India whose misery is accentuated because they don’t have cigarettes! I’d have to smoke them, it would be my moral obligation. And after that I would think, Well, this is kind of fun. There’s no reason why smoking can’t be like drinking, an activity to be indulged in moderation. A vodka Collins, a nice Camel Wide… And nicotine is good with breakfast cereal too; in fact, a little known fact about nicotine – little known because I just made it up: it actually enhances the tooth-whitening properties of Crest –
Pretty soon you’re on your tush sliding down that slippery slope into actual drug-seeking behaviors (as the literature so quaintly dubs them.)
No, I can’t let myself smoke. Not even a single cigarette. Not even one tiny drag.
Damn it all.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 06:18 am (UTC)You do have my permission to go stare at the ocean, however. Say hi to the otters for me.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-27 04:41 pm (UTC)