Now, I've just gotta kick that meth habit and I'm woman of the year! WHOOT. Move over Tina Fey, I'm gunnin' fo ya. (No disrespect, you are queen) Who knew that sheer will power and a hint of Streptococcus would do the trick. I do miss smoking sometimes, mostly for the social aspect and because I want to look like James Franco in Freaks and Geeks (I'm obsessed.). But alas, I will never be a Daniel Desario (It's the hair) and now I'm okay with it.
Because when I smoked I couldn't enjoy these supremely wonderful perks:
Hugging my dad without him hitting me in the head, saying I smell like an ashtray.
Smelling the shampoo in my hair.
Breath that smells like the food you just ate.
Being fucking warm during the winter months.
Not being rained/snowed/wind-ed on while driving and smoking.
Not having that ache in your chest the next morning after partying.
Less time spent outside, sucking on a cigarette, staring into the abyss, being all deep and stuff.
Staying at home with my family more.
I don't die as much whilst running.
People not preaching at me 'smoking's bad for you, you know?' (FYI: Yes, I am aware. Thanks.)
People not preaching at me 'smoking's bad for you, you know?' (FYI: Yes, I am aware. Thanks.)
Having money for things.
Not tweeking so much about mouth and other cancers.
Smelling like my perfume.
Not embarrassed when my little brother or any other family member rides in my car.
My dog doesn't judge me as much.
No ashes to wipe off my dashboard or burn holes in my seats.
So whenever I feel like I want one I take a deep breath. A sip of water. And chill the fuck out. Because that one drag won't be worth the sense of pride I feel when I wake up knowing I went another day without one. Now seriously, about that meth thing...
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