Wretched, awful, hate my day... bad. Good grief. Every day I've been thinking: I need a cigarette. But never have I really wanted one this freaking bad. Of course, part of it is my fault. Sort of, anyhow. I had to stop taking the Chantix for awhile because I was getting very sick between that and the pain meds for the surgery.
Hm. Wow. Anyway. Point is, I don't need the pain meds and that fiend, the nicotine demons are making me a living asshole. I'm jumpy and crazy and I've offended just about everybody today. Well, almost everybody. My dentist's receptionist learned I was a writer and she was very happy to talk about reading good books with me while I waited on the Doc.
Anyway. I won't have that cigarette. I'll refuse. But tomorrow morning I'm back on the Chantix.
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