I go through this cycle every day.Wake up:want a cigarette.Drive to work:think about exhaling some cancer backwards on the highway.Got some raggae up loud and sucking down a Dr.Pepper that would taste even better with a cigarette in between gulps.And again when all the patients are gone, and i've successfully made it through yet another negative confrontation with Catwoman...really wish i had two cigarettes. One right after the other just so i'll feel sick and won't feel bad about leaving early for the third time this week.(And it's Thursday)
Walk back in the building.Acknowledge the Receptionist that works in Cardiology with a cigarette in her hand...Wonder what her excuse is.    *ahhhhh.*
I guess i could ask for one.But then you take the risk of getting the Menthol cigarette.And that's just not cool.And even though i'm feigning bad enough to ask, I just can't take the risk of getting frozen tobacco outhales.
 Okay i'm good. I passed her.
I try to think of the segment on Oprah where the starving Somalian child was forced to survive on eating tobacco for two days until his rescuers found him but even that gets under my skin because i cannot dismiss the fact that i would fight that Somalian child for that rolled tobacco. Light his dinner and smoke it in front of his face.

And then i feel real bad for all of it and contemplate using my lunch break to find a CVS that has a pack with my name on it and flick my guilt out.

There is a text message on my phone.
And i read it once.  Read it once more. And suddenly i am in love. With the boy who makes me put my ugly on pause.

Maybe i will just smoke in celebration.
Or maybe thanks to you:            .i will be content.

I just want to say it again........I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK!  I feel like everything you write should be published.  Reading what you write just makes me happy.  Even if what you write is sad it makes me happy to feel anything and you're writing evokes feelings of all kinds.

Aww. it is so good to hear that. Too often i get caught up in the void of Monday through Saturday that i forget to sit down with a pen and make love to something that matters.*smile*more room for breath. Is more room for sanity.And you are a warm crevice to run to.always. Don't ever stop being mother goose.  

I won't.