I don’t know if this is a physical withdrawal symptom or what, but the last few days I’ve been a little nauseous.
I don’t miss them at all. I find it’s interesting because every time I start smoking it’s a conscious choice. Every time I stop it’s a conscious choice.
It’s been almost a week since I had one, and I have no urge for them.
I have however, could not stand one day without the Internet. Isn’t that like a little fucked up.
My hand has been aching and spasming, but it’s more from sitting up than anything else.
I really need to start taking care of myself. I mean, I need to start getting my hair done regularly, and do my nails and my get pedicures. I mean I need to start taking care of my shit a little better.
I’m also going to get myself some help around my apartment. My Big Sister suggested that to me last week, and she told me she knew a Sister looking for that kind work. I’m going to see if I can’t make arrangements for it. I need someone to help me, because doing it myself is still not something I can manage alone and you know, I ain’t out here pretending I am Super Woman. Big Mami needs help!
So here’s to life without cigarettes. I may be pigging out at the moment, but like everything I know, this stress and pressure is going to pass.
When I moved here from Barbados, a sweet guy said to me, “Pressure is made for ties and water taps.”
So the way is going to ease. This is just the fire testing me.
I’m going to be so fucking sweet next year…. the big three Oh for me. Thirty years of age.
I’ve spent the last five years telling people I plan to be an amazing woman in my thirties.
I’m looking forward to it. For real.