Archive for the ‘Cleaning house’ Category

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff until you smoke yourself to death.
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you hate to make him wait,
But you just gotta have another cigarette.

Merle Travis for Tex Williams 1947

Boy, you take a couple weeks off from house work in a construction zone and things sure go to hell in a big way. You would not believe the dust and grime all over everything. I’ve been cleaing but as soon as I get it cleaned up it’s dirty again it seems! YUCK!

I’m still in my OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) phase of moving furniture around albeit in a much slower mode than would have taken place at an earlier point in my life. Getting old and decrepit is sure discouraging. Today I decided that the bookcase had to come live in the bedroom with the desk and we’d (me and the mice in my pockets plus Patches, the cat, and the books and one of my spider plants) all be much happier.

I got it moved but I still haven’t got the bedroom floor vacuumed and the popcorn I spilled two days ago is going to become a permanent part of the decor if I don’t get at it ASAP. I still don’t know what to do with the milk carton of computer books. :^? This room just isn’t big enough to accommodate it. I need a bigger bookcase. They are on sale at Shopko but I don’t have the funds. Bummer. Plus where in heck is the printer going to go?

Sitting here at the computer, I am procrastinating getting at the rest of the housework and/or sitting down at my sewing machine and finishing that dress I started a month ago. I washed 3/4 of the dishes this morning before I had my coffee but the pans are still sitting there and I’m just not motivated. I finally got that invisible zipper in right last weekend and now I have to figure out what in heck they are doing with the pockets. This is a strange pattern. More complicated than it looks and I’m not used to reading pattern speak anymore.

A couple of days ago I was prompted to do something physical by the intellectual stimulation of the first chapter of Weston’s book. I needed to digest what I had read so I scrubbed the kitchen floor. My gawd, the filth on that tiny few square feet–I’d guess it’s maybe 5’X6 or 7′. The grit and grime thrown up by the construction on the street is just incredible. My keyboard is literally gritty and I’ve cleaned it several times.

To think I’m breathing this crap. Ugh… My throat is more irritated than usual this time of year what with ragweed in bloom and the molds that are inevitable when we have lots of rain and humidity. Plus there are some kind of trees that I’m allergic to that are pollinating and the grasses. I forget which ones. I had those allergy tests so long ago. Post nasal drip and the gunky crap that I wake up every morning and hack up is gross.

But it’s not as bad as it was when I was smoking. I was allergic to tobacco, too. But that didn’t stop me from smoking, addict that I was. I need to be honest here. I occasionally have a cigarette with friends. I buy them for 50 cents apiece. I like smoking. It’s a pleasurable way to relax for me. But I notice with the Chantix that I don’t get the nicotine kick from it. Which is good. I wish I could find a non-nicotine smoke that I enjoyed besides whacky tobaccy. Maybe I should try cloves.

Thank gawd for Chantix. I don’t think I could have managed to quit as easily as I have without it. I don’t go roaming the halls looking for someone to buy a cigarette from with a gotta have it need. I should just say NO MORE. I worry what I will do when I have to go off of the medication although I have been weaning myself off already and don’t have any cravings to smoke most of the time.

Sometimes I do. When I get frustrated over some piddling little thing like not being able to get that zipper in but then I’ll go and do something else and the urge passes without any great crisis and I’m fine. I can live without cigarettes. The true test will be a big emotional crisis. That’s where I’ve always fallen back on the cigarettes. I need to have a plan in place for that eventuality. Ben and Jerry’s and a hypnosis tape might help. A phone call to my best friend. Writing. Those are all good substitutes.

I’m proud of myself for having come this far. I’ve gone two or three weeks at a time without those social cigarettes so I know I don’t need them. They’re like chocolate to someone on a diet. I cheat. I flirt with addicition knowing that I’m only a pack away from being a full-fledged smoker again. It’s silly really.



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