Move over Lindsay Lohan!

Okay. The biggest reason your Mother told you not to smoke...trying to quit is really UGLY.

I am now in my 30th hour, smoke free, cold turkey, and it is not going well. I feel like I should be in the fetal position, sweating in a corner of a rehab facility. I cannot sleep...as you can tell by the time. I am having anxiety attacks and cannot get comfortable. I feel like a drug addict. It is not pretty, people.

I decided to quit yesterday, after I finally realized how pathetic I am. Slinking around, hiding in alleys and behind buildings, so that no one will be bothered by my dispicable habit and hoping that people I know, will not see me, getting my fix. How sad.

When I was a teenager, everyone's parent walked around with a Camel and a highball. That is just how it was. My house smelled like Chesterfields and Scotch. Well, we Methodists, that is. I am sure that the Baptists were not lighting up and slamming toddies, after choir practice.

Note to self: Reasons I quit: Wrinkles, Stinky Clothes and Hair, Yellow Teeth, Social Stigma, and of course, possible death. My death would come from trying to light up and drive at the same time. Cars are about the only place left that you can feel free to light up without someone staring you down, or if they are, you don't know it. But, you would never use the ashtray, because if someone got in your car, they would know that you are a........SMOKER. So you become a criminal by throwing litter out of the window of your car, so you don't leave evidence in the ashtray. But then.....you have to wait to get rid of the evidence, when there are no other cars in sight, to catch you in the act of littering. I have put cigarette butts back in the pack, in my jeans pockets, in old coke bottles....anything from adding to the already unmanageable number of butts that plague our country. If that is not enough, we must endure the endless stares and comments from our friends, family, and coworkers, which only makes us feel more estranged and unacceptable. I was caught coming out of my favorite bush the other day at work, and one of my coworkers said, "EMILY, I did not know that you were a......SMOKER!" The look on her face was as if she were saying she did not know that I slaughtered baby seals on my days off and made them into house slippers as a hobby. Geesh.

So, there you have it. I am recovering from my addiction and have a new found sympathy for Lindsay Lohan. I will never smoke and drive again. The party is over.