I love drinking beer. It makes me smarter, funnier, sexier, and I think I am actually even better in bed.
Well, I think that the very first part of the last sentence is true. At least it used to be. These days, not so much.
I haven't even tried to drink in quite some time, and I don't miss it. I also gave up on coffee, which made me a better writer and more awake. And I am not eating meat anymore. Which used to make me really strong. And I think, also better in bed.
Drugs...Those are gone too.
But the thing that I gave up that I miss the most is smoking. God! How I loved to smoke. Smoking really was the gift
from the gods that once made me feel whole. I was never lonely or long on any kind of writer's block or depression when a half full pack of cigarettes was within reach. I loved the smell of cigarettes and the way that they made me fell warm when it was freezing outside. I loved the way that they put the finishing touches on a great meal or were the perfect length to pause and look and wait before going back to business on whatever thing I was doing, thus making that whatever thing that I was doing seem important. Sometimes, these days, I find myself looking up and staring at that space near the ceiling and thinking a sigh, and then I notice, my fingers... The two fingers are pointing out there with the thumb close behind, grasping for the missing cigarette like a phantom limb.
I was talking to a friend about cigarettes the other day. He had quit for over a month recently, but found that he just felt sad all the time and had to go back to his first love. I couldn't blame him and in fact I was jealous. I would have, in the past, almost automatically , upon hanging up the phone, put on my shoes and a jacket and gone out into the cold night for a pack of cigarettes in another part of my life, and joined him in spirit. But no. I can't do that anymore. To me, cigarettes at the thing that will bring down this house of cards that I have built. I mean, I am not a weak person, I am just someone who likes to finish what I started. Once I open that can of worms, well it won't be long before I am adding on the coffee. Then the chocolates. Steak won't be far behind, followed by anything made of pork that I can get down in Chinatown. And sure, bourbon goes great with cigarettes as I remember....and then finally beer and drugs and I will be back were I started killing myself with all the things that I love.
Not a bad way to go, I would argue. But I am not ready for the early exit. At least if I can help it.