Day Three: I May Be Able to Do This

For once there will be an entry with no wails or torment or crying about how horrid the day was. Actually, apart from the rising mercury (the day is currently 36 degrees Celsius), the day went quite well.


Today is the first day that I haven't felt the need to use violence against inanimate objects to prove a point. Thursday, it was a defenseless plastic cup. Friday, saw my wrath escape towards my work shoes. I no longer have work shoes. Consequently, I do have a spare zipper and a few scraps of leather. Today has been subdued. No destruction. No tantrums. A day that was desolation free.


This calm and near serenity... it's a little ray of hope that I may be able to kick smoking once and for all. I may now be able to tell people proudly that I am a reformed smoker. Here's hoping that once I do, I don't turn into my father and a loud mouthed reformed smoker... the ones that everyone hates. You know one... just thin... Yes, them. I saw that recognition in your eye. They are a reformed smoker. The scourge of all evil in things tobacco related.


Is this the eye of the storm? Have I entered some strange limbo where my body isn't quite sure what is going on and someone is about to jump up from behind the couch yelling "SURPRISE!" 


Of course, the logical reaction to that is to shoot them but that's neither her nor there. They shouldn't have broken into my paranoia and hidden behind the couch.


With all this aside, I believe it is time to walk out into the daylight, burn through three layers of skin in 2.5 minutes and returned something a little better than a charred corpse.