You gotta do what you gotta do

Just finished planting some new flowers for the yard. I saw some last year, forgot about them, then saw them again this year and took the initiative to find out what they were and get me some. Hibiscus...hybuscis...hubbysicsic...tall plants with really big blossoms!! And I mean tall plants, if you want them tall. Up to six foot tall. I got the shorter variety, two red and one white with red eye. A few years from now I will have to post a picture of them, once they take off. Someone remind me.

Anyhoots, it is now August. My quasi-vacation is over, as I secretly gave myself July off just in case I needed it, due to the change of lifestyle thing with the not smoking. Having made it this far, I reckon I can deal with the associated stress of removing my clutter and dealing with Mom. Yep, plenty to do, but for now I am going to watch the Today Show discuss why we have sex...

Can I get an "ah, man!"?

Took the last of the little blues Sunday, and in celebration, I consumed volumes of celebratory liquid and smoked a pack of my favorite menthols.



Made you think it, didn't I? Hehheh. Not to worry, there has been no relapse, and it would seem I can now become one of those militant ex-types any time. Go about making others feel guilty, restricting where they can engage in the behavior, urging my legislation to raise the per pack taxes to extortionate levels, making funky faces whenever someone lights up around me. You know the type, the ones that come off as a bit holier than the rest of us, but are probably sneaking a smoke behind their pulpits, and hoping that NBC's Dateline doesn't decide to start producing "To Catch a Smoker."

Or perhaps I can just take a deep breath, not cough, and figure out why my newest addiction has to be so problematic that it could make a weaker person say "wtf" and return to the old addiction, just out of spite. I say this for many reasons, not the least being that the void left by the extinction of one addiction is much like a vacuum, and you know what nature thinks of that. Well, you do if you are learned, and if not, think physics. Mommy Nature has nothing on Mum Psyche. A behavioral vacuum gets filled before the old way even has it's butt smacked by the door.

Yes, I can take joy in the success of the Chantix and my brain working together to remove the decades-old habit, but I really need to figure out how to equate staying up late to the evils of smoking. If I find a way, I can then begin research on a little blue pill for that, and I'll dust off my pulpit to prepare for the crusade which will follow. I can begin work on the "Awake Tax" legislation, and compile a list of those who don't care. I can build a web site to warn others of the destruction the behavior can create. I can develop curriculum for self-help groups to use to "cure" the new illness and make room for the next new illness.

Yeah, I could do that. Or I could go accomplish something related to the project.

Kiss another joy goodbye

Everyone is happy with the Chantix-related actions of late, barring certain free market institutions and taxation entities. Well, everyone except the one person who is taking the drug. It really has little to do with the cessation of smoking and more to do with the side effect of the side effect. The Mrs. and I determined this quite by accident the other day, and after the last few days, I may have proven the theory correct.

Which, by the way, really bites it big time.

See, we have determined that the cause of a good share of the gastric disturbances may well be blamed in part to an interaction of Chantix and alcohol. Actually, both of us have a slight recollection of hearing some report on the same, yet we aren't sure where. I guess I could look it up, but I would rather look forward to the end of the Chantix. Giving up smokes is one thing, but giving up booze makes me sad. Next thing you know, I'll have to give up hoarding.

Wait…

My Casa is not Your Casa

Funny how the smallest things can influence the course of history, whether on a global scale or some more personal arena. Having someone over to potentially purchase the glorified recliner that Mom insisted we buy for her, an item she basically used as a nest in which to sit and watch TV all day, rarely using the expensive lift component (or the recline for that matter), I was struck with the tiniest bit of shame over the present state of clutter in the 'public' parts of the abode. While it did rekindle motivation to work on the project, it also rekindled a feeling from the past which is primarily responsible for the clutter in the first place. "It's my house, damn it."

Granted, I am not a hermit, and thus the feelings of the Mrs. must be taken into consideration, meaning that the philosophy of my parents needs to go out the door (along with Mom's chair). You know the one. "It's my house, damn it, and if you don't like it, don't visit." Still, I think everyone has that feeling at some point, although with slight variations. I guess that is why I developed this project, as my feeling is important, but so is the feeling of 'it's my house' that the Mrs. nurtures. "It's my house, and I would love for you to come over." While I can sweep out the personal shame of clutter with the broom of ownership, that same broom is hardly useful to mop up the shame the Mrs. harbors when people do come over to the house. And while I can perch myself upon my owner's throne and Xbox my life away, I have to remember that the Mrs. has thrown her owner's feelings into the cellar for far too long and the true motivation for this project stems from her feelings more than mine. Damn it.

So, here it is, another day, and while I would love to go exploring the virtual world, I need to attend to the…real…world. Finances are a bitch when you ain't got finances…

Butt For the Grace of God

It's been over a week, and lest I become an unreimbursed spokesperson for Chantix, I must say that it ain't been perfect. The ongoing gastric issues are tolerable, but the withdrawal symptoms are still there and make things tough. Granted, the "other little blue pill" seems to be making it easier to get through those moments when my body becomes flush with chemical desire and my habit-center pitches fits, but I can not say that the effort has been smooth. You try having nic fit at 2am or while you are driving and some dorf who thinks he is more important cuts you off. Yeah, that's how I roll of late.

Still, I managed to get a few more things related to the project accomplished, though not nearly as much as I could. Perhaps I will do better this week.

A low growl

While this whole quitting business is not as difficult as it could be, I still sense some of the withdrawal, most notably when I get the "sweats." I also notice that I am a little easier to anger than usual, but some of that may be related to dealing with other issues, such as my choice of replacement habits. That discussion would cause tremendous stress, so I suppose I will let it go.

What news of the project? Hmm. Well, the books I listed last week barely got a peek, let alone any bids, so I reckon I will need to relist them after I post some items a bit more popular. I would love to get the guest room finished soon, if not for benefit of the project, but also to be able to point out that I can get something finished. Not that it would matter, as there is always something unfinished waiting to be pointed out. Still, I do feel it would be nice to get something done, even if it is only this post.

Day Eight, or a new Day One

Two little blue pills, one for AM and one for PM. Hehheh. If only. Anyhoots, for anyone who reads this and doesn't finally have the last week of posts figured out, last Sunday I started a new approach to getting rid of this decades old habit of mine. No, not that one. Smoking. I have quit twice before, but still managed to jump off the wagon, so I am hoping that this third time will be the charm. To be honest, I am not 100% resolved, but it is the closest I've ever been. Because of other factors relating to the nicotine addiction, I decided to try Chantix [now I'm an advertisement for them], as it does not use nicotine to control the problem. Nope, instead it screws around with my brain cells. Like that's something new. Seems to be working so far, although I have felt some withdrawal effects today, and I worry that the Mrs. will tire of my smoking substitutes of sleeping and Xboxing. I keep telling myself that all I need to do is fight the urge for, uhm, four days and things will be a bit easier.

Right.

OK, so I think I'll go exploring for a bit, then do some other things a bit more productive, all in the hopes that I can distract my brain from this topic.