Last night I dreamt that I was smoking. Cigarettes. Which I actually haven't in like a year and a half. Except in my dreams. So this morning when I woke up, I felt like having a martini. Or a sixer. Or smoking a pack of cigarettes. Or something. The sleet and hail and other forms of hard snow, driven by 30 mph winds, were rattling the windows. I rolled over and closed my eyes again so I could listen to it better. And when I finally got up, I settled for coffee.
Why I can't stop: The yen never goes away.
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This blog used to be called "Why I Can't Stop Smoking." Well, I did stop smoking. Now I need to stop drinking. The only thing is, every day there seems to be a reason why I can't just yet. It worked before, so—here goes! Today's reason
mr. and mrs. jones
About Me
- Claudia
- The sister of the President of the Garden Club, a former journalist (People, Life) and now vacation rental property manager on an island once known as Claudia's Island, Claudia has honed her bedmaking skills and seldom travels without a truckload of substandard chairs.
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