Went to the accountant on Saturday… Followed by some working on said tax stuff.
Took little Andrew to visit with my dad on Sunday morning. Considering dad is really just an eight-year-old trapped in a 57 year-old’s body – they got along splendidly.
I suppose we’re not through the woods yet on the whole not-smoking thing. My mood swung into the basement for the remainder of yesterday. It was hard to fight the inexplicable urge to curl up in the fetal position in the back corner of the bedroom and cry. And I couldn’t tell you “why” either.
While the more subtle nuances of my brain chemistry level themselves without the euphoric stimulation of nicotine – I’ve found several more straight-forward pacifiers.
I smoke(d) KOOLs… mentholated cigarettes. Fortunately there’s so many “mentholish” type products out there… Listerine Strips… Altoids….