A Day in the Life of a Smoker
Editor’s Note: This article was originally written by community member The Midlife Gal.
When I was a smoker, each of my days was divided into cigarette sections. I decided that if I got up, made my coffee and opened the windows, I deserved and could completely enjoy my first cigarette of the day. I would not have my first cigarette until then and that gave me the feeling that I was not as pathetic as those who woke up, leaned over to light a cigarette and blew smoke rings into the rancid air blown out from the smokey night before. I was a clean smoker - fresh and deserving. You just have to laugh.
After showering, lotioning and putting on my make-up, I deserved another cup of coffee accompanied by another satisfying cigarette. I would plan my day and prepare breakfast but as every one knows, if food is imbibed by a smoker, it has to be followed as soon as possible with nicotine. This applies to all meals, snacks and kisses.
It was now time to start my day and I headed for the car with my list of groceries and tasks. If you are not a smoker then you might not know that most smokers must light up as soon as the car door shuts. The amount of time it takes to get somewhere is calculated in cigarettes. For instance, from our house to the cleaners is the perfect amount of time to get one smoke in, but from here to downtown is a two-cigarette drive. In order to make it from Austin to San Antonio you would need a full pack, just in case you got pulled over for speeding, in which case you would need a whole bunch to get over the anger at the police officer and the extra time it would take to get there.
Anger = two cigarettes to calm down.
When all errands were run and business tasks accomplished it was time to think about lunch. This kind of rumination was best done with a cigarette. If one was in a nine-to-five type job, this was usually the first fifteen-minute break of the day, and about midway through the morning.
Fast-food drive-throughs were one-cigarette time periods and of course another stick must follow whatever happened for lunch, whether it be a juicy Whataburger, all-meat pizza, or a non-fat, whole wheat, organic Asian wrap. I would go for the last one as I was always cognizant of my health.
Afternoons were good for writing blogs. When finished with one of five I needed to write for that week, a cigarette was a well earned reward. After that, yoga and then another you-know-what. If there was nothing new on the nightly news - that deserved a cigarette and if there was something alarming on the news then that warranted one as well.
I’m a really good cook. I prepared lovely food when I was a smoker. KK and The Ancient One love my Chicken Marsala, Frito Pies, and Brunshwager(sp?) on soda crackers with crunchy pickles. The last one screams, "give me a Marlboro"
A glass of wine later took me out to the deck for what I knew was the second to the last ciggy and a look at the stars. I didn’t really care that much about the stars, but that was all there was to look at in the dark.
Being a smoker was sort of like having a 6 month-old-baby. You couldn’t leave it alone for more than an hour, you smelled worse than baby throw-up, and people didn’t want you to bring it to the party.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em - if you don’t"be glad!
Read (and watch) More!