“Puits sans fond”; Vulgaires Machins
I’ve spent the past six hours jonesing really, really hard for a cigarette. It took me a while to catch on… I couldn’t get comfortable on the couch, I couldn’t concentrate on what I was writing, there was a pressure on my brain, my mouth was actually sore from salivating too fast… but I finally realized I was having a severe nicotine fit.
Of course I’ve thought about smoking over the past twenty months (or so), until last Spring I was still reaching for my pack out of habit. Watching a movie where a character smokes still drives me a little nuts… actually I just watched Quentin Tarentino’s “Deathproof” — great movie, lots of smoking.
So the fact it took at least an hour before I realized what was going on should be proof it has been almost two years since I quit my eighteen-year habit. Addicts are, mostly, idiots about our addictions. Especially after having quit for a longish period. Unless we’re careful, very careful, we forget about the addiction and only remember the motions.
Pretty decent proof of my idiocy in treating my addiction would be that I thought I got rid of the cigarette I saved for exactly this kind of occasion, but it ends up I saved a second by mistake.
I can remember finding the cigarette I kind of knew I saved while cleaning my kitchen a couple of months ago, I also remember breaking it in half, tossing it over the railing and watching the pieces fall onto my wet lawn… so I have no idea where this second saved cigarette comes from, which Totally reinforces the idiot thing. It isn’t even my freaking brand. I was so jonesing for a smoke that I actually went and checked the cupboards for my old ashtrays to see if I had another cigarette… and there it was… and it’s kind of squished and wrinkled and it’s so freaking dry…
And I just smoked the shit right out of it… wow. I was writing the last paragraph and nothing felt right, I was trying to make it funny but I had to rewrite it about six times until I had had enough… then I got up, took the cigarette and lighter, went out onto the porch and smoked it… not quite down to the filter, but enough of it that I actually got back into my smoke routine. And it didn’t suck nearly as much as I thought it would… I’ve smoked really old cigarettes in the past and they almost always taste like burning dish soap. And fuck me if that whole six to seven hours of total craving hasn’t completely gone away.
This post was totally supposed to be a funny little thing on how much addictions suck, even after two years. But turned into something totally different and… well, not funny “haha” anyway.
Holy crap… I just smoked a cigarette… and I’m not sure I feel guilty at all.
Well, I guess the bad news is now my hands smell like burnt rubber and my mouth tastes like… well, like I just smoked a two-year old cigarette. Which is remarkably similar to how I remember a fresh cigarette tasting only with more ass.
The good news is I’m pretty sure it was one of those cigarettes that doesn’t give you cancer.