Nicotine Dreams

In my dreams I smoke. Benson & Hedges Fine thank you. I used to smoke Extra Mild but then they changed their name during my last quitting period and I got all confused. Then I found the ones again and smoked them.

My name is Mrs Woog and I am a smokaholic. It has been 3 days since my last cigarette.

Mood? Swinging between calm through to murderous. It does not help when Mr Woog asked this morning “Do you have a patch on at the moment?”

YES I FUCKING HAVE A PATCH ON! WHY DO YOU ASK???? And where is my coffee?

I look at all the lucky office workers walk down my street puffing on a ciggie and I think, “Do they even know how lucky they are?” which is totally ridiculous because I am 3 days healthier than they are. I was on the phone to my sister Mrs Ryan last night who has also recently quit. And I think I actually said to her “Don’t you wish we had never taken smoking for granted while we were smoking?”

I am in a serious head fuck at the moment. Over smoking. Stupid.

It has made me manic! I never knew how much time I spent smoking before I stopped. Talk on the phone, smoke. Have a coffee, smoke. Finish dinner, smoke. Pour a wine, smoke. So I have had to change some habits and anticipate that something I have done so instinctively for so long has gone. Now I am busy. I need to keep busy or I will stop and think about cigarettes.

I am busy rearranging the tupperware drawer.
I am busy culling my wardrobe.
I am busy cleaning out the Woogette’s cess pit.
I am busy sorting out my shoes.
I am busy organising my accessories collection.
I am busy reading the school newsletters and then transposing important dates onto the calendar so things like this morning when I took the Woogettes to school only to find everyone getting on a big bus to go to the school Cross Country Running Carnival and I ask the Deputy Principal what was going on and she then told me to start reading the newsletters as they are a mine of information…. does not happen again.

I have a nicotine patch on that I swear is giving me some super spaced out dreams. Last night in my dream, Jack and I went on Mr Woog’s Vespa to visit Osama Bin Laden on the Gold Coast. We stopped at Coffs Harbour on the way. And bought some apples.

The night before, I was involved in a police operation to track down a homeless person which resulted in his death after we jumped from building roof to building roof. I was given a commendation for my bravery and my ability to fly.

Tonight I am hoping I will fulfill my personal dream of being Tina Turner’s backup singer. One can dream… nicotine dream.