This Way

With all the stress going on in my life these days, it's probably not the best time to try and quit smoking. But that's what I'm doing.

I don't know how many of you have ever tried to do this, nor could I say that I honestly care. But for those who don't know, let me remind you that quitting smoking was one of the famous seven labours performed by Hercules. And it was only on the second, nicotine-less day, that he tore in twain his obnoxious centaur sidekick, Newton.

The only suprise there is that it didn't happen far sooner. After all, the Greek gods were hardly constrained by desires to come across as good role models... even on their best days.

I once tried to quit smoking once before, and it went pretty well. Cold turkey, and it lasted a year and a half. But you know how it goes. Next thing you know, you meet a girl who smokes, or catch the scent of a house on fire, or become an alcoholic. In all the above cases, a cigarette is more than likely in your near future. Of course you tell yourself it's only one smoke, just this once. You wouldn't be human if you didn't make excuses.

In an amazing case of convergent happenstance, someone stole my ashtray. True, although it was dear to me, what with the Heineken labeling and having been brought to me from Thailand by a confederate, I left it continuously outdoors. At the mercy of the elements and the caprice of theives, it lay unmolested at the top of my stairs for many months, for that is where I do my smoking.

I guess it was hubris that lead me to believe, even after the kid downstairs had his bike stolen from our communal backyard, that my ashtray might escape the attention of robbers and blackguards. And it wasn't like I wasn't well forewarned. On several occasions I observed cigarette butts scattered all around the ashtray, as though someone had been rooting through them in search of juicy morsels which might yield up their tobacco to be combined with others, and then enjoyed in the form of a gypsy smoke.

But having cut back so much on my smoke inhalation, I can't say how much time had passed between the theft and my noticing of said theft. Not that I was enjoying smoking on the steps much anymore, anyway. The ever increasing variety and size of spiders in the vicinity is a strong discouragement for yours truly.

I went up to the gas station nearby a few days ago to purchase a single cigar. I lit it immediately but still, by the time I got home, I'd only had about a third of it and that wasn't going to be enough. Plus I knew that if I put it out and left it near my home, it was only a matter of time before I'd come looking to finish it.

So I walked away from the house for a couple of blocks, smoking until I felt no more need, and threw it out into the middle of the highway near my house. I walked away from there, confident that circumstances were well in hand.

But then... I can't remember! This all happened in october! This is all just a draft I saved and never finished. I haven't even proof read it for mistakes or to see if it even makes any sense at all. Crazy, eh?