So, I got home yesterday... and I wanted a cigarette. Basically, you can end every one of my sentences with "and I wanted a cigarette". Please do - it'll save me a lot of typing.
The thing is that when I get home, I like to relax a little. What better way to relax than with a nice smoke, huh?
So, I didn't relax.
Later, after we had dinner, I walked the dog and was basically climbing the walls. When I went to bed, I was tapping my feet... the thing about not smoking is it frees up a lot of spare time and you're caught wanting to do something to relax but there's nothing you can do because you just quit doing the thing that helps you relax. So, basically, you turn into a ball of pent-up energy. I don't know if it's the drug or the time you spend smoking but, one way or the other, you go nuts.
Meanwhile, Vicky is lying next to me in bed, saying, "I don't see what the problem is. It's not like you're quitting heroin." Actually, it is! It is like quitting heroin!!
Yeah... loving this...