Giving up smoking, hangovers and wallkies

At the young age of 36, I decided I really should start putting my thoughts down on this interspace or whatever the youth are calling it this week. I think 36 is a curious age. I get that I am a grown up and should be married with kids in a house I bought. I am not though - I am in a flat with my mate and a cat (unintentional rhyme, not freestyling).

Today is a Saturday and it is starting with a rather irksome hangover. Irksome, because by their very nature, hangovers are rubbish, but also because I really didn't set out to get piddly last night, it just kind of happened. Not really the behaviour of a not-far-off-forty year old now is it!? I didn't though succumb to temptation. I am talking about cigarettes here. I finally gave up after smoking for about 12 years on and off, 8 days ago. I am starting to feel the benefits tis true; more energy in general, not stinking, more money in my pocket, but it still holds an allure. Here is the thing - I consider myself a fairly intelligent, rational guy. I don't though, understand why, when I am asthmatic and not exactly rolling in money, it has taken me this long to stop smoking! "Oh yeah, this £5 which I could have spent on some throw-away folly like food will be much better spent on slowly ruining my already slightly pathetic lungs and making my fingers smell like a tramps hat". Yet still, while I was out last night, I still had to fight to not have one - and then - fate, being the filthy tease that it is, played the following little trick. As I was walking along, I kicked what at first appeared to be an empty fag packet. KICK, I kicked. I heard a rattle. Immediately, I felt a rush of "OOOOOOOH FREE CIGGIES" (because I had had a couple of drinks and this felt like a mini win), followed instantly by "OOOOOOOH THEY ARE AS USEFUL TO ME AS BUTTER IN MY PETROL TANK". In the end I actually got my mate to pick them up, snap them in half and bin them. Yeah, showed them. A few seconds later we passed a homeless chap and I was suddenly racked with guilt thinking "ahhh, we could have handed over those ciggies to him" followed swiftly by another side of my brain saying "sod him, if you can't have them, he can't have them".

Err, what else happened last night? Someone asked if I was gay because my tshirt showed a little bit of chest hair. That was fun. Won't be wearing that again then!

I am thinking of getting out of bed for a walk round town. Bed at the moment though is winning the battle for my attention. Mmmm comfy.