Notes From The Good Life

This new life I have, you know, the one where I usually workout at least once per day, sometimes twice; the one where I am uberconcious of what I put into my body–veggies, berries, whole foods, raw foods, yogurt, protein, organic;–you know, the on where I often become ELATED at the LITTLE, SIMPLEST things that this BEAUTIFUL life has to offer; this life is wholly contingent on the fact that I DO NOT smoke anymore.

Now, I am human and I am addicted so I have actually made the mistake, in the past, of thinking “Oh hey! My life is so awesome now! Let’s just start smoking again!”

NOPE. Mind fuck alert!

I repeat: this new life I have is contingent upon the fact that I DO NOT smoke anymore. I can’t have both, you see. To begin smoking again, even once, would take that away. In an instant. In a second. In the snap of a finger. Before you can say “I only smoke when I dr–” New life, gone.

So I’ve got to remember that, you know? But I am a fucking faulty human. Sometimes, certain parts of my brain just Do Not Work. It’s like they’re taking a nap and just won’t wake up for anyone, not even me. What I need is for them to be in high gear. alert! alert! You do not want to do that, dip shit! *insert polite, sing-song-y voice here*

Instead, I have gotten a “meh,” and indifferent headnod-slash-shake from my willpower. A mixed message or, worse, a direct “Leave me alone, alright! I’m Netflix and chillin’ right now!” Hopefully though, I can get my willpower to work full time, not just part time. Maybe that is what is happening now, today. It sure seems to be, but I don’t want to jinx it.

But I’m pretty sure a few minutes ago I witnessed someone smoking (oh yeah, it was my roommate and boyfriend) and instead of envying them I pitied them (this is new). This time, I thought “Man, they have so far to go still.” Because really, we all plan to quit someday, right? Right?!

This new life I have, you know, the one where I am proudly healthy and wholesome (I make fresh, homemade berry smoothies every morning and take fish oil daily, things I certainly never did before!) and I wear perky ponytails and workout shorts (and not just for fun, but because I’m actually going to the gym!). This new life, it is contingent on the fact that I don’t smoke anymore. Like not even once. Like that’s the whole point. Like, get over it already–what do I want? The Good Life? Or the my-life-would-be-good-if-I-could-just-quit-smoking-life.

I once read this: “You will experience dissatisfaction either way. Either you are dissatisfied because you “can’t smoke” anymore or you are dissatisfied because you are smoking and you can’t quit.” The choice is obvious: choose the one that wont kill you, and be happily, healthfully, dissatisfied. If you even want to call it that.

THIS is the good life. Here I am, on the right side of my life!


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