Tempted by the fruit of another.

I am a smoker.  I love smoking cigarettes.  If I was alone on an island I would not take “a friend and a good book.”  I would take a dumpster full of cigarettes and maybe a loofah or something.  I know they’re bad for me, I know they stink, and I know it’s stupid but ”as a dog goes back to its vomit, so a fool repeats his stupidity” (Proverbs 26:11).  I heard that the other day from somewhere and it fits… I didn’t pull that from memory- sorry.

So anyway, I am returning to my vomit because I QUIT smoking a while ago, I read a really good book and just quit.  It wasn’t even that great though, I missed it and all the people who got on my back about it when I did it didn’t even say anything about me quitting!  How about a little present or something?

So anyway, I quit and didn’t start again the whole time I was living in BC (in the creepiest little hamlet ever).  Then I moved back home and started hanging out with my stupid, crack-head, loser, smoker  friends and of course started smoking again.  What else do you do for 3 hours when you’re sitting in a garage with a bunch of loser crack-heads?? (I don’t do crack, I just hung out with people at home who were stupid and about one house-party away from being crack-heads.)Then I quit again… because my mom was getting on my case and my husband (who was living in Canada without me at that time)  still thought I was not smoking.  So I moved back to Canada and quit again.  I thought this would be easy because no one in his family smokes and you’re pretty much a leper if you do, he’s OBNOXIOUS about it whenever I try and smoke with him around, and most of all… Canadian cigarettes are different, and disgusting, and about $10 a pack.  They taste like someone rolled tobacco from 1928 in a piece of oilcloth and then dipped it in Maple Syrup or something.  They suck.

So I’ve been bored lately and kind of pissy and feel like I’ve been sacrificing a lot to live in wonderful Canada with my wonderful husband.  So I went and bought a pack.  I thought about it for about 3 days, about how much I missed smoking, about how it was not a big deal, lots of people smoke, if it’s something I enjoy why can’t I just do it for now while I don’t have anything else to do, etc. etc. 

So I bought a pack of these disgusting shit-sticks and lit one… my hand trembling with excitement, like a ballroom dancer back on her feet after being out with a broken ankle.  I knew what my body had to do but it felt much more difficult.  Then I inhaled and it was like I was a 12 year old choking on their first j.  Pathetic.  I was pissed I didn’t have a Camel or something in my hand.  But I finished it and didn’t enjoy it.  The next day, repeat.  Then Thanksgiving with the inlaws and no smoking.  Then today… damn you Canadian cigarettes…. you’ve seduced me with your disgusting flavor.  I still would prefer an American Freedom Cig, but I’ve now lowered my standards to accept a Peter Jackson.