Coming Through It Like a Champix.

Well, two weeks without smoking.  Two full weeks - no weaning or anything this time. 

My Lovely Wife has been smoke-free for over a month now, and she did it by using Champix (Jules told me there is another name for it in the US of A).  After feeling horrible and wanting to kill everyone around me (which they, of course, were ready to be put out of my misery) the sinus infection was the last straw.  I went to the doctor and got Champix myself.

Now, there is no walking around in a rage, and there is not really any desire to smoke, even when around smokers smoking smokes right in front of me.  But, there are side effects.  There are the one that they warn you about at the doctor’s office and at the pharmacist’s counter.  You are to watch for depression and aggression, suicidal tendancies etc.  Everything that should be associated with a strong, addiction-breaking prescription.  However, the blasé, not-happy, not-sad, not-angry, don’t-give-a-shit-about-much thing … I wasn’t really ready for that.

I kinda keep up with a few online forums (yes, I said forums, go tell Joel, LOL) and of late, I have given up on one, I visit the other one from time to time, and as you can see from my own Weblog here, I just seem to be out of touch.  I sometimes come up with something I want to write, a comment on something, a full post of my own … then I get to the writing part and it comes out hackneyed and on the edge of belligerent or condesending or ignorant or just plain non-sequitor and I don’t bother to post. 

I don’t really have the drive to do anything - even anything fun.  I have not played many games online (although, I am buried in work, and haven’t had much of a chance).  I have just no drive to do anything.

I mean, I am keeping up with work, notwithstanding the more than normal amount of it, and stuff is getting done.  My tolerance for stupidity is completely gone, though.  This is also true for my ability to ’suck it up’ when professionally insulted.  It isn’t helping things overall.

I know that My Lovely Wife is going through the same things, as she has similar issues to me with regard to work … but I figure I will write my thoughts here rather than burden her with it. 

At least, for her, she knows her last day is just a few months away. 

Me?  Looks like I am going to have to kill a bunch of people after all.  Glad the Champix is covered by my insurance.

Hate is not positive…but I hate everyone and everything.

This is really, really not fun. 

I have literally weaned myself down to not smoking.  I have the sinus infection I knew I’d get, but I had forgotten about its accompanying raw throat.  I knew I’d be edgy, bitchy, nasty.  I find it hard to write this, since it means I have to concentrate - which one would expect is a good diversion - but it is a fleeting one.

Of course - and I am not sure if I attribute this to my less-than-tolerant mood, or the Fates having a good laugh at me - everything seems to go out of its way to frustrate me.  Last Sunday, I was basically in a silent rage.  I did not share it with anyone.  Everything from plastic wrappers sticking to me with static to getting my hand stuck in the mailbox retrieving junk mail and flyers was only serving to increase the severity of the anneruysm sneaking up on me. 

In the five days since then, however, I have been victim to a more caring, subdued rage.  LOL, for those who actually know me, I am an extremely patient person, tolerant of even the most offensive things.  Over the past two weeks…not so much.

And assuming that Greg comes back to read this - or has seen the comment on my previous blog entry - I owe you $20.00.  I can get that in a Timmy’s card if you’d like. 

Even I don’t want to be around me next week.

Without going in to very much detail, we (My Lovely Wife and I) have decided that Monday, April 07, 2008 will be the day in which we stop smoking - for good.

She is going to be using a prescription.

I am going to be using the hate-everyone-and-be-edgy-for-one-week-and-hope-that-if-I-DO-kill-someone-that-I-don’t-get-caught method.

Now, Lee’s method has its own issues.  Possibilty of nausea, depression etc.  My method has none of that, just the possibility of beating the ever-loving-shit out of someone for no reason, screaming at co-workers, abruptly shutting down my laptop for no appar

Just WHAT Do You Mean By That?

OK, I had to share some of this inane crap.  Before you read this, though, I ask this question.  What moron would buy something, from someone, whose marketing ploy is having robots enter SPAM on a WordPress blog?

*** *** ***

Anna

years, the whole number of barrels caught by the herring-buss is then in the market. His fortune is greater or less, precisely in

Thanks Anna.  Your heartfelt herring-buss analogy really moved me to … well … have a movement.

Katherine

debtor could agree upon. Copper is not at present a legal tender, except in peace, may serve as an illustration of what has been just now

Katherine, yours is a singular wit.  By singular, I mean a single brain cell. 

Heather

reproduction must always be in proportion to the strength of the agents that rivers, are advantageous situations for industry, only because they

Heather.  Umm … hmm.  Purple Monkey Dishwasher.  (What the hell else is there to say?)

Nptxsews

Minerva bless hang over ford consumer finance company inc never remember casino patron reinstatement request ronus. Bingley varied what you international payment systems united kingdom vapours round euribor euro interbank offer rate seeker. Samos wide the crowd stag doe games hat consistenc minimum liability pension cost cripple for pension liabilities pipe. Psyche resolved chance indeed rebalancing machine are the index futures portfolio price stock option nsequences. Smiles decked the proportion mac invoices set altogether build your own mutual fund hames altogether do corporations have limited criminal liability blade. Jove descends with which gas and retail credit card the proceeding evaporation bank planet. Could fate close together coffee news franchise review doubt the pcb’s double sided electro deposited gold thinnest. Weighs down perfectly unintellig insurance claim assessment eld forth congratulations official letter retirement abitations. Fierce they very narrow dynamic limited partnerships justice should loan persoanl different. Jews from arris will stagnation mp3 by rue his case weichert realtors southern properties looking back esl obligation morrow.

Fates design when carried history of offshore exploration often soothed investing baltimoresun com hermopylae. Inglorious here the popular oil burner replacement costs when displayed portfolio rebalancing discovery.

Drag off ship tosses integrate composite risk management heseid would limiting collections against obligors and chariots living trusts and newcastle steeds.

Np7!bluedotporkrind.  I have no idea what you are trying to sell in this SPAM message, but damn, stop smoking it, dude.

When did “life” become “safe”?

I took a cab home from work yesterday.  It was my wife’s birthday, and I had to stop to pick a few things up, and didn’t want to be too late (I usually take the LTC).

The driver had his radio on CBC, and what I thought was a conversation on snow melted into one of the most ridiculous things I have heard.  It was the snow that started the conversation, but the main flurry of words came from the “bad” idea of playing in the snow.

Now, I don’t mean snow angels as adults.  The main topic was the “dangerous” practice of playing in a schoolyard during March Break.

No - I will give you a minute.  Read that again.

So, because of the near-to-record-breaking snow this winter, children are lined up to toboggan down mountainous (less than 3-metre … or less than 10 feet, if you are so inclined) piles of snow, throwing snowballs, tunnelling through drifts.  All horrible, dangerous acts, of course.

The field reporter spoke of how, with his two young daughters in tow, he went to their school and ’supervised’ their kid-time.  Discarding the mantel of child-responsiblity, these rogue children frolic’d and play’d until a right-thinking neighbour called the school, and a custodian, obeying some un-written law that was [not] put in place to protect children from the horrors of snow.  The custodian was required to break any “snow tunnels” and be sure to keep people off of the piled snow.

More on this later…