One month ago today I smoked the last cigarette I had. One month today. On Saturday I started developing a cough. I thought I was getting a cold. Nope.
For the last two days I’ve been hacking up tar. No joking. Its disgusting and tastes like what you’d imagine tar being hacked up out of your lungs would taste like. That’s the best way I can put it. Still though, I’m rather proud. I’ve been a smoker for nigh on seventeen years and now I’ve made the first real stab at kicking them to the kerb so I’m happy about that despite the hacking and the choking, and to celebrate I’ve decided to go back to the gym tomorrow. I’ve made an appointment for tomorrow afternoon to talk to one of the trainers about getting a moobasectomy and a beerbellyoffame.
I’ll report back if I come out the other side. Although, when I’m beautiful I may not have to write here because real people will like me, so be nice to me now, before I have you forgotten.
