Sooo

how are we all doing, sharps, rudd wannabes, porters, deans? I mentioned resurrecting this old corpse of a blog in the celebration (or mourning) of a new routine, a new life, where we begin to feel better, quit all of the dumb self-destructiveness, and hold cyberhands through the trials and tribulations of working out, eating right, blah de blah de blah.

Blah de blah, for me, means not only no nicotine via the umpteen high tech vehicles for which I have till now been so open-minded, but my biggest monkey, coffee. Some might think it's ridiculous that I would quit something so benign and incredibly difficult to quit, like caffeine. I've begun to think it's ridiculous that my emotional well-being peak its head from beneath the covers at mug #3.

Now nicotine was not really a problem quitting at all, in spite of: Snus (basically a mint with a pleasant buzz), digital smokes (nothing but water vapor and nicotine...undoubtedly healthier than cigarettes), chew, cigarettes, pipes, and cigars. As much as I absolutely love it, I held in the back of my mind that when I'm ready to quit, I can. In comparison to caffeine, it was a breeze.

Coffee hurts physically, and emotionally. I feel like I'm really being hard on myself, depriving myself of something so wonderful and aromatic. There's a sadness to it, like sending away a dog you've befriended, because your parents said no. I think that's the drugs talking.

Come to think of it, I think I feel the same way about sweets (donuts and ice cream in particular).

For now, most of my urges are under control. I had a lapse last night (it was late), and scarfed 3 home made jalopeno poppers. Other than that, I've been holding my own, eating incredibly healthy, setting up meals a week in advance, cooking, and sticking to that routine that we wrote up last week.