Warning!

You think I'm a bitch, a fiend, a scalawag, and a sassy-pants now:

Wait until I stop smoking.

I just bought what I intend to be my last pack of cigarettes. I'm on my way home in a few hours, armed with lots of off-brand Nicorette gum, so that I can be comfortable as I go through my detox. I went to TJs and purchased my first loyal brand of cigarettes--Newports, more than a dollar more than when I first started smoking fulltime at 16 --so that I can go out with a bang. When the cashier rang up the purchase, I noticed that the price was $4.94 on the register. The cashier told me it was $4.95.

I got cheated out of the penny that was rightfully mine.

I think this shows that, with smoking, you can't win.

I haven't been so anxious to this degree for such a long time. I think I'll get past the withdrawl (night sweats, headaches, anxiety, coughing up random shit, the desperation) as if I were going through a very bad cold, but I'm more worried about failing and disappointing others and myself more than anything else.

The last time I tried to quit was during sophomore year, I think. I made it two days and broke down, and then I had to tell the two people I told about it (Laura and Bomi) that I had failed. I think I cried about it when I was alone, but I'm not sure, as I have a tendency to overdramatize things. The worse part was not the craziness that insued (I should be able to take care of that with with gum) but more-so the fear of putting a crack in my image and admitting defeat to a substance. I mean, it's a cigarette, not heroine!

I'm moving back my original quitting date of May 10, 2009 because 1) the tax is kicking in sooner and 2) I don't want my gown to smell like cigs, nor do I want to deal with the stress of trying to sneak off and smoke. I also want to do it because I'm entering a new phase in my life, and I want to be already prepared for it, not still working up the nerve.

So, yea, when I drag out this pack and smoke my last cigarette, there will be hell to pay for everyone.

God speed.