Day 145
There are few things in life one can say with absolute certainty, but I can now state without fear of contradiction that I found such a thing today.
Not smoking sucks.
It sucks like Julia Roberts having oral sex with an industrial vacuum cleaner.
After slightly less than twenty four hours I’m ready to take drastic measures.
You must understand that I’m a miserable bastard at the very best of times but without the assistance of tobacco to enhance my mood I must be completely unbearable.
Initially I thought it best to shut myself in the bedroom and avoid all human contact but as I don’t consider any female inhabitants of the Snowman household to strictly be members of the human race this was somewhat optimistic.
So was being locked away with only a TV for company.
The more I watched, the further my disposition headed south.
The first thing to hit the television was a worn sock during a news item when our glorious Prime Minister tried to justify another blatant lie about tax cuts.
After changing channels in the hope of finding something less likely to raise my blood pressure I inadvertently switched to a “reality” show where a group of snotty adolescents were grouped together on a tropical island.
It wasn’t long before I was able to get in some more target practice.
This time the ordinance came in the shape of a pair of bright purple underpants that were languishing on the floor next to the bed.
After swearing at an especially obnoxious individual who appeared to have the same intellectual capacity as a clam, the underwear was vigorously launched…
…and stuck to the screen.
Before I hear the distant sound of churning stomachs you should realise none of my personal bodily fluids were in any way responsible for the glue-like reaction. The current Mrs. Snowman had simply split a cup of coffee on them without telling me and failed to deposit them in the linen basket.
If you’re relieved about this, consider my reaction.
I had to pick the fucking things up while initially thinking my fingers could come into contact with a skid mark or two.
I currently have the patience of an erection in a cheerleaders shower room; I’ve bitten two of my fingernails to my knuckles and the nicotine patch I put on my arm this morning came off and spent the day stuck to the inside of my shirt.
If that weren’t enough, I now find myself taking out my anger on inanimate objects.
I should take comfort that Surrogate Daughter had taken the puke machine to a friend’s house (possibly for some vomit training) and would not return until late in the evening.
That could have been a very ugly scene.
Once more, I played poker today like it was a disease and I found the cure, i.e.: I couldn’t catch a thing, or to put it another way; very badly. Only one tournament ($4.40) was graced with my incompetence and, for some reason I’ve yet to identify, I re-raised with an Ace on the board while holding pocket Jacks and no draw. You won’t be in least bit shocked to hear that was my last hand of the game. This was something of a disappointment, particularly as it was less than seven minutes after I saw the first one.
At any other time I would have consoled myself with a beer and cigarette.
Today I stomped outside and screamed at rose bush instead.
Obviously the non-smoking thing is not a situation that can carry on in its current state for long, something has to give and I’m worried that my sanity might be somewhere near the top of the list…although I’m sure most readers would consider that took an extended vacation a long time ago.
The wife needed no persuading on this point.
I figured that both my smell and taste would benefit from some kind of continual stimuli as a replacement for nicotine so earlier today, as an experiment, I put a jelly baby in each nostril and munched on a chocolate finger…and Mrs. Snowman saw me doing it.
At least it took my mind off cigarettes for ten minutes.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $3.01
Not smoking sucks.
It sucks like Julia Roberts having oral sex with an industrial vacuum cleaner.
After slightly less than twenty four hours I’m ready to take drastic measures.
You must understand that I’m a miserable bastard at the very best of times but without the assistance of tobacco to enhance my mood I must be completely unbearable.
Initially I thought it best to shut myself in the bedroom and avoid all human contact but as I don’t consider any female inhabitants of the Snowman household to strictly be members of the human race this was somewhat optimistic.
So was being locked away with only a TV for company.
The more I watched, the further my disposition headed south.
The first thing to hit the television was a worn sock during a news item when our glorious Prime Minister tried to justify another blatant lie about tax cuts.
After changing channels in the hope of finding something less likely to raise my blood pressure I inadvertently switched to a “reality” show where a group of snotty adolescents were grouped together on a tropical island.
It wasn’t long before I was able to get in some more target practice.
This time the ordinance came in the shape of a pair of bright purple underpants that were languishing on the floor next to the bed.
After swearing at an especially obnoxious individual who appeared to have the same intellectual capacity as a clam, the underwear was vigorously launched…
…and stuck to the screen.
Before I hear the distant sound of churning stomachs you should realise none of my personal bodily fluids were in any way responsible for the glue-like reaction. The current Mrs. Snowman had simply split a cup of coffee on them without telling me and failed to deposit them in the linen basket.
If you’re relieved about this, consider my reaction.
I had to pick the fucking things up while initially thinking my fingers could come into contact with a skid mark or two.
I currently have the patience of an erection in a cheerleaders shower room; I’ve bitten two of my fingernails to my knuckles and the nicotine patch I put on my arm this morning came off and spent the day stuck to the inside of my shirt.
If that weren’t enough, I now find myself taking out my anger on inanimate objects.
I should take comfort that Surrogate Daughter had taken the puke machine to a friend’s house (possibly for some vomit training) and would not return until late in the evening.
That could have been a very ugly scene.
Once more, I played poker today like it was a disease and I found the cure, i.e.: I couldn’t catch a thing, or to put it another way; very badly. Only one tournament ($4.40) was graced with my incompetence and, for some reason I’ve yet to identify, I re-raised with an Ace on the board while holding pocket Jacks and no draw. You won’t be in least bit shocked to hear that was my last hand of the game. This was something of a disappointment, particularly as it was less than seven minutes after I saw the first one.
At any other time I would have consoled myself with a beer and cigarette.
Today I stomped outside and screamed at rose bush instead.
Obviously the non-smoking thing is not a situation that can carry on in its current state for long, something has to give and I’m worried that my sanity might be somewhere near the top of the list…although I’m sure most readers would consider that took an extended vacation a long time ago.
The wife needed no persuading on this point.
I figured that both my smell and taste would benefit from some kind of continual stimuli as a replacement for nicotine so earlier today, as an experiment, I put a jelly baby in each nostril and munched on a chocolate finger…and Mrs. Snowman saw me doing it.
At least it took my mind off cigarettes for ten minutes.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $3.01