yet another story of waste

i have a confession to make. forgive me Father, for i have sinned. i just boxed up the submittal of five copies of unrewarding parking lot documents: two reports, two cost estimates, two sets of drawings, a data sheet, and a 17-page comment resolution matrix. i have mastered killing trees in the electronic age. pathetic! i busted my butt today to get it done. i had to cut a few corners to get it into overnight UPS this afternoon; mainly, i saved the file copies for tomorrow (a perfect mindless activity for a friday). and the confession: i celebrated with a cigarette. yes, that's right. i am a smoker.

i experimented a little in high school. a bicycle trip in Maine (nothing says healthy outdoor activity like a Marlboro red!) when i opted to hang with Nancy, who was a smoker, instead of the other fraternity/sorority wannabes on the trip. the summer after my senior year in high school, my mom was in the hospital for awhile; eventually she had back surgery. my older sisters were doing their thing (not home), so i'd sneak a cigarette after play practice. so rebellious! i officially became a smoker during the summer after my freshman year of college. i was working morning food service at YMCA of the Rockies. in the evening, several of us would go to a near-beer bar. they only served 3.2 beer, so the legal age in the establishment was 18. i had a crush on one of the "bad boys", who was a smoker, or maybe he only smoked when he drank. anyway, i started smoking when i drank, and i ended up dating the bad boy for a couple years. it was a bad relationship, and all i have to show for it is a bad habit that has lasted over 20 years.

i have quit a couple times. the last time i recall, i used to take long walks to try to keep my mind off the nagging nicotine. i would see trash in the gutter (specifically, long cigarette butts) and i was tempted to pick them up, light them up, and finish them off. it disgusted me to the point that i went out and bought a pack of cigarettes. i can cut down, and have cut down dramatically. i've been down to four cigarettes a day. now i'm around six or seven a day. i know how unhealthy it is. i know it has stained my teeth and skin. i know i look older because of the damage it has done to my skin. i'm sure any evidence of the internal damage i have caused to myself would sicken me. i know the smell stays on my clothes. i don't smoke infront of the punkin, but whenever he sucks his thumb (often) i am convinced he has inherited my oral fixation.

i know i should quit.

i think i don't because of my low self esteem. it is self-destructive behavior. and this form of abuse is not viewed as suicide. this is so wrong.