Up in Smoke: My Life in Cigarettes

So, I quit smoking.

Like, for real reals. And it's not so bad (thank you, Chantix), but the hardest thing is breaking routine. You see, I used to divide my work day as follows:

- 9am arrival
- 10am cigarette, despite having about three on the walk/ride in.
- 11am cigarette (I know, that's already 5 and it's not even noon)
- At noon, I grab the mail. And since I'm up, why not take a smoke break?
- Lunch break at 1pm. Cigarette on the walk to the mall. Then one or two while I'm fiddling with garageband on the foodcourt terrace. Then another to get me back to the office.
- 3pm cigarette (A note on the thought that goes into this one: "OMG only two hours 'til five! I'm so excited I could smoke.")
- 4pm cigarette ("Oh what the hell, only an hour left.")
- 5pm after-work release cigarette ("And with this exhale, I'm cleansing not only my lungs of smoke, but my mind of work.")

Thus, the question is begged: WHAT THE HELL DO I FUCKING DO WITH ALL THIS GODDAMN MUDDA-EFFING FREE TIME?!!?

And then the answer: READ MARILYN MANSON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY BECAUSE NOT ALLOWING ONESELF THE LUXURY OF A SMOKE IS LIKE SELF-INFLICTED MASOCHISTIC BONDAGE.

(Fun Fact I learned: MM once fisted a gay man after one of his shows, on a dare from Trent Reznor.)

Buh Bye.