I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.

Well, I quit smoking last night. I was and remain quite excited about that in itself. I read a book about the "Easyway" method of quitting smoking and just like that, my fear was gone. I wasn't giving up something, I was gaining everything.

However, not one hour after I extinguished my last cigarette ever, my cat got very sick. He was shitting blood, he was vomiting and at times, he was panting like a dog. I didn't know what to do. It was after 2:00am. My apartment was roughly 95 degrees because it never cools off in there, which is why I was up so late in the first place. So, eventually, my boyfriend took him into the bathroom, in case he needed to let loose from either end again while I cleaned up all the mess on the carpets. I ruined several towels and he ruined his catbed. Ryan took all that down to the dumpster and after assuring ourselves that he seemed in pretty good spirits again, we finally got to bed around 4:00. I wanted to have another "last" cigarette very badly, but we had thrown them all away and I did not.

Fast forward to 7:15 this morning when we were awoken by the familiar POUNDING of the jerkoffs putting a new roof on my building. I'm on the top floor. Each and EVERY morning for the last two weeks, they have started directly above my bed. I think they do it on purpose. I am starting to hate them on a personal level. They aren't supposed to start working until 8:30, but have started between 7:15 - 7:30 every day, even on Sundays. Ryan and I are both out of sorts and don't know if it should be blamed on the lack of cigarettes or the fact that we're going on less than four hours of sleep. We try to remind each other that we're in this together and to take care when talking to each other.

We end up leaving the house early. He wants to hit Starbucks, which I hate doing and it gives me an upset stomach. It's fine. We don't have to be at work for a while and if I had to sit and listen to them banging on the roof any longer, I was going to toss one of them off, 5 stories up or not.

We get to Starbucks and are in the drive through line and this young girl hits me. She hits my car fairly hard, but there is no damage. Ryan jumped out of the car and started yelling at her and got right into her face. I can see by her face that she's feeling threatened and is really upset. I tell him to get back in the car and then have to spend 5 minutes soothing her, even though she's the one that just caused this. She said she was tucking in her shirt and her foot slipped off the brake and onto the gas pedal. All this is going on while other people are behind us in line. We are holding up the works. The Sbux people are rude to me, as though I'm the one who caused the accident.

It was like a perfect storm of stress and emotion, all designed to get me to regret my decision to quit smoking. I haven't lit up yet and I don't intend to, but cheese and rice, today is proving to be a tough fucking day. I guess if I can make it through today, I can make it through anything.