Late this afternoon, I realised just how addicted I am. Noooo, not to blogging (although...), to cigarettes.
At around 6 p.m. I found I was quickly running out of ciggies. Quickly as in I had 2 left and about 6 hours to go till I would think of going to bed. As I'm suffering from insomnia again, it might even be as long as 8 or 9 hours before I actually fell asleep. That promised some mental instability that had better not be fuelled by annoying, loud or repetitive neighbourly sounds.
As smoking is not exactly the cheapest hobby I could find, and I'm in a bit of a financial pickle, well... you know how they say that maturity shows in decision-making moments. Yeah, OK, so they don't really say that, but I desperately need to convince everyone that I'm mature - all right, not convince anyone then, just act it. Anyway, to cut short a story that was threatening to be quite record-breakingly boringly long, I thought it would be good practice to not rush out and shove everyone out of my way to get my fix sorted before the few shops that are open on Sunday were closed, and decided I would instead dose out the two remaining sticks so they would last the evening - and hope for the best.
Let's just put it that way. Insomnia with me starts with a tension in my jaws, usually a few minutes after I've switched off the light. When I feel that tension, I know I'm in for a fun moment. Well I had that all afternoon. All afternoon.
So I decided I'd try and go to bed early and take something to help me sleep (something herbal, I'm not into sleeping pills, for many reasons). Turns out, I'm still not in bed and I'm all stressed out, and I can tell I'm going to have my usual hard time trying to get to sleep, and I'm not sure the night is going to be restful.
But it doesn't really seem out of the ordinary, for someone in the throes of withdrawal. And I haven't even binged on chocolate as a substitute. Hmmm. Wonder when I'll be kicking it for good now.