It's the end of the working week. The day I have historically most caved on.
And pub time. Boyfriend has won a free $100 voucher, and so I shall be hiking to the local pub soon to drown the week away in hopefully cheap wine.
And without a smoke.
Which is fine. I can do that. Now.
But after two or three wines, I know the craving will set it. Even worse than any day this week. And something in my head goes, you can have one. Just one. And its like there is two of me, and one of me talks the other into begging for a smoke. And if the begging doesn't work, I go and buy a packet.
It is a vicious cycle. I don't want to crack. I also don't want to have to deal with the yearning for a cigarette. I could avoid the pub, and the verandah, and the people who I know smoke. But that would mean closeting myself in my room. And as soon as I poke my head out, I know I'm still going to want one.
It's actually not that great - the smoking - it's quite disgusting. So why do I want to smoke?
Habit. Safety. Relaxation.
Why do I not want to smoke.
Health. Life. Money.
If only I could remember that after I have a few wines...
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