I noticed, as I sat there, that through my cold I could smell the smoke from the people around me. Now, I couldn't smell the coffee in my hand, couldn't smell the coffee in Dunkin Donuts, couldn't smell the toast I accidentally set on fire this morning, couldn't smell the Flatbush Ave train station, couldn't smell the homeopathic sinus-clearing garlic-cayenne-sea salt-honey-vinegar-ginger "tea" I drank this morning. I couldn't smell anything all day but my addicty, endorphin starved brain could pick out the smell of a cigarette.
I picked myself up off the ledge I was sitting on, walked over to the ash tray, realized I didn't have anything to contribute to it and walked into the building. I sat down and wrote the following list of reasons I don't want to smoke.
- I don't want to die
- I can't breathe
- My asthma has been acting up for weeks
- $9 per day = $300 per month = $3,600 per year
- Yellow teeth
- I'm getting crow's feet
- I can't exercise
- I taste like an ashtray
- I'm past the age where my doctor will prescribe me birth control despite the fact that I'm a smoker
- Smoker's hack is about as sexy as pink eye
- Smoking makes me have something in common with people who live in trailers
- I like to taste things
- I'm sick as hell, a cigarette would make me feel exponentially worse and yet it still temps me