It's Chronogeddon

Yes, Chronogeddon, the ever-feared end of time itself. It's 3.10pm and it seems like hours since it was 2:55pm. My day has taken a turn for the slow and I don't know what to do. We're all doomed. Dooooomed. DOOOOOMED.

Only The Doctor can save us now.

It's that time again

Yes, it's that time when I roll up my sleeves, get a grip on myself and quit smoking. Again.

I'm becoming something of a veteran at this. I started as a 15 year old, stopped in my later teens, restarted in my early twenties, quit in my mid twenties, started again in my late twenties, quit in my early thirties, started again a year or so ago and now I'm back to quitting. Again.

Of course, this time I haven't had a run-up. I had my last cigarette on Thursday and kinda decided then not to buy more. Normally, I quit on a saturday or sunday morning, having deliberately used the previous night to prepare a mind-shattering hangover, thus destroying any desire to smoke for a couple of days afterwards. If it's a really really big hangover, it'll get me through the legendary third-day barrier.

No such preparation this time. I started unhungover and unready. And now I'm going mildly nuts.

But I figure if I blog this, then I've got no excuse. If I cave, the post will be used against me.

Heh. Cessation by blog. I like it.

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