I've been assured that if I continued to smoke, that the above rendition of me would be accurate, soon.
While I have much love for the departed Mr. Crowley, I don't wish to resemble him so distinctively before I shuffle off into the next life. So I continue down the broken cobbles that make up the path towards being tobacco free. Blargh!
DAY 3
I had zero cigarettes at work yesterday. Which was hard. I did smoke 5 cigarettes last night after my patch finally dried up and blew off my shoulder.
I have smoked two cigarettes this morning, before thinking better of quitting the quit, so I put on my patch.
Coffee Straws are a very poor substitute for a cigarette. Any suggestions?
I'm annoyed and I don't feel like writing anything deep or humorous.
Kimberly is doing just about as well as I am so far, and being able to talk to her about it has been invaluable.
Keep crossing your fingers for me.
This is much rather what I would look like when I croak:
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