I want to know who created this stupid idea that health is your most precious commodity, because that really just isn't true. At this stage, I would have really loved, adored, begged for being ill.
You see, I'm trying to quit smoking, being pregnant and all that. And if you've never smoked or had to quit smoking, you'll have no idea how hard it is to kick butt while you're disgustingly healthy and hale.
Right now, I've managed to cut it down to about 2-5 a day and I'm still feeling an amount of guilt that you simply can't imagine, but the truth is I'm having a real hard time with the quitting. It's ironic, since I had no problem quitting with my previous pregnancy… though come to think of it, by the time I found out I was pregnant I'd already quit for about two or three months.
The story goes like this. I became horribly, violently, terribly ill during the winter (remember, winter here is from march/april to august/September). So there I was, hacking my lungs out (or what was left of it after ten years of light to moderate smoking, which at the time felt like it couldn't be larger than two pin heads) with my breast so congested and tight that I couldn't breathe air properly, nevermind smoke. So I just simply wasn't physically able to smoke until I got better, which took about a week to ten days, at which time I decided that a) I never wanted to feel like that again, and b) I had already quit, actually, for ten days and should be over the worst of the cravings and withdrawal, only I missed it because I was too busy being ill and consumed in self pity to notice. Simple as that, non?
Non.
You can imagine how superior I was feeling, having quit the coffin nails with no trouble at all, no cravings, no irritation, nada. I was insufferable. Smirking at everyone who complained about quitting smoking in a "I'm-better-than-you" kind of way, I'm sure many people wanted to just wring my neck. People who are coming off the nicotine are very, very easily irritated, as I can well attest now. The only thing I can think is that they didn't want to harm a pregnant woman, so they tried to avoid me, which of course made me feel even more superior, because I thought that they were avoiding me because they were feeling inferior about their inability to quit.
Someone should have just killed me there and then. God knows, if I should run into the me of that time, I would at the very least slap myself silly. Come to think of it, that would be an excellent idea. I could beat myself up and in that way never start smoking again, leading to a present of freedom.
So, anyone got a time machine? If you don't, I'd be happy to take your germs instead.
You see, I'm trying to quit smoking, being pregnant and all that. And if you've never smoked or had to quit smoking, you'll have no idea how hard it is to kick butt while you're disgustingly healthy and hale.
Right now, I've managed to cut it down to about 2-5 a day and I'm still feeling an amount of guilt that you simply can't imagine, but the truth is I'm having a real hard time with the quitting. It's ironic, since I had no problem quitting with my previous pregnancy… though come to think of it, by the time I found out I was pregnant I'd already quit for about two or three months.
The story goes like this. I became horribly, violently, terribly ill during the winter (remember, winter here is from march/april to august/September). So there I was, hacking my lungs out (or what was left of it after ten years of light to moderate smoking, which at the time felt like it couldn't be larger than two pin heads) with my breast so congested and tight that I couldn't breathe air properly, nevermind smoke. So I just simply wasn't physically able to smoke until I got better, which took about a week to ten days, at which time I decided that a) I never wanted to feel like that again, and b) I had already quit, actually, for ten days and should be over the worst of the cravings and withdrawal, only I missed it because I was too busy being ill and consumed in self pity to notice. Simple as that, non?
Non.
You can imagine how superior I was feeling, having quit the coffin nails with no trouble at all, no cravings, no irritation, nada. I was insufferable. Smirking at everyone who complained about quitting smoking in a "I'm-better-than-you" kind of way, I'm sure many people wanted to just wring my neck. People who are coming off the nicotine are very, very easily irritated, as I can well attest now. The only thing I can think is that they didn't want to harm a pregnant woman, so they tried to avoid me, which of course made me feel even more superior, because I thought that they were avoiding me because they were feeling inferior about their inability to quit.
Someone should have just killed me there and then. God knows, if I should run into the me of that time, I would at the very least slap myself silly. Come to think of it, that would be an excellent idea. I could beat myself up and in that way never start smoking again, leading to a present of freedom.
So, anyone got a time machine? If you don't, I'd be happy to take your germs instead.
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