Ashes to Ashes

I haven’t ranted for a while. This isn’t because all the best rants have been done or anything as ridiculous as that; it’s mostly because I couldn’t be arsed.

Last Friday I gave up smoking, which is like opening a can of ranting worms. I’m now perpetually pissed off and we could well see a significant resurgence in my blogging output.

I enjoyed my last real cigarette at about 3pm as the shiny new piece of shit “vaping rig” or whatever the fuck we’re meant to call them charged in readiness for hours of unsatisfying pretend smoking.

Friday night passed without incident and I thought it was going to be easy. I was wrong.

Saturday had an undercurrent of anger from the minute I woke up. My e-cig suddenly ran out of power and for a brief second I felt an irrational need to punch children in the face and spit at puppies. I obviously didn’t do either of these things. I went for the more sensible option of charging the e-cig whilst continuously staring at it and mentally screaming “CHARGE, YOU SHITTING BASTARD!”

By Sunday air should have smelled cleaner and food should have tasted better. It didn’t, although I hardly gave the theory a chance by eating a Ginster’s pasty and a chocolate orange for lunch. I then destroyed my tastebuds further still with a four pack of McEwan’s Export, partying like it was 1989. All the while I imbibed puff after puff of fake smoke.

By Monday my lungs started to hurt as 25 years of collective crap that’s caked inside them began to loosen. The sudden, unexpected expulsion of tennis ball-sized loogies started to occur occasionally as I cleared my throat, turning coughing into a kind of phlegm lottery.

Now I sit, reminiscing happy times involving cigarettes. That time when I was 16 and chain-smoked two when my  mum went out and I had to have a lie down because I felt like I'd collapse if I didn't. That time when I woke up to find a cigarette burn in my duvet cover having nodded off whilst enjoying the last one of the day. That time I had one with a really bad hangover and it made me cough so much I vomited in the sink in the kitchen. Ah, the memories.

Having successfully given up before* I know it will get easier at some point. Possibly when I’m dead.

I want a fag.

*It was successful for 18 months and then became decidedly unsuccessful. So it wasn’t a success at all, I guess. Give me a cigarette.