In The End Though, Quitters DO Win, Right?

Gah. Blerg. Barf, and additional displeased onomatopoeia. I have quit smoking!

I am almost a week without cigarettes now, and I can report that everyone around me needs to shut the f*ck up and that the g*ddamned bus moves too g*ddamned slow and that the assh*ole rice I made doesn't look like the sonofab*tch rice on the cover you lying b*stards at Knorr. Suffice it to say, it has been a pretty testy week. I have been a smidge irritable.

I have also had a weird physical side effect, which is a TON of nervous energy. Like, cocaine-level energy. Wait - do people on cocaine have a lot of energy? I wouldn't know because I am a SQUARE. One time in the bathroom of a shitty dive bar in DC a chick doing lines off the sink asked me if I partied, and I was like, "Yeah, duh! All the time! My friend is having a house party tomorrow night, and everyone is bringing a mix tape! Right? Wacky, right?" Ugh - re-telling that makes me want to give myself a swirly.

Anyhoodles, I have had so much energy since quitting and I don't really know what to do with myself. I find myself pacing and muttering a lot, which is definitely a mark in the CON column. "Quitting smoking will greatly reduce your risk of heart and lung disease, but you'll also turn into that weirdo on the subway that no one wants to lock eyes with." Worth it? Also - what in the hell am I supposed to do with my hands now?!?!

It has taken me 42 minutes to write this much because I kept getting up and walking away from the computer. I need to use these new powers for good. What downtrodden people can I help by being constantly in motion? Newton fans? THAT WAS A SCIENCE JOKE. I need a drink.