Must... not... kill.

I have officially gone 13 days without a cigarette.

More importantly, I have not harmed anyone that I know. And the other stupid bastard shouldn't have gotten in my way.

When I woke up Saturday morning (4/2), and couldn't catch my breath, that was a sign that something was seriously wrong. Luckily I made it through the night and went to see the doctor the next day. After enduring 4 hours of blood tests, chest x-rays and general poking and prodding (while being half naked with a fever of 104F (shiver, shiver)), I was diagnosed with pnuemonia and general ickiness.

Anyhow, it's easy not to smoke when you can barely get out of bed. The test comes when you go to work the next week and try to do 2 weeks worth of paperwork in a couple of days; try to figure out how your boss managed to lose $5000 from the accounting software without reporting it; try to rebuild the data file that your boss corrupted. And then "re-do" the payroll that your boss screwed up ("Hello," he calls me on Tuesday when I'm still sick, "is it okay if I don't pay our employees for Easter?")

Through it all, I've decided that I would prefer to breathe. Hopefully the ulcers will take care of themselves. It's one thing to assume that you'll have emphysema some time in the future, another when you get winded from taking a leak.

So hands up if you've ever had the dubious pleasure to have chewed nicotine gum. It tastes like crap, but at least it doesn't work. I should have lied and bought the 15-packs a day level gum. As it is, I no longer have the urge to snap necks, just to break limbs. So that they will suffer longer. And I can laugh and laugh as they writhe in pain.

How long does it take to get this shit out of your body? I've been thinking about starting a heroin addicition to take the edge off.