It's day 17. It's almost getting harder now, this constant self denial, and the comical thinking that just one isn't going to blow it for me (yeah, right). I know that (Like Christie said) if you take one, you're a smoker again. And the corollary is also true, "once you give yourself permission, quantity is no longer an issue." I sure wish Spouse would quit, I would certainly think about it less if he did. I'll just have to get used to the cranky/edgy thing that I've become, I suppose.
Not helping things is that Guy (pronounced ghee) upstairs has "the kids" this weekend. I shit you not, his son was rollerblading in the apt yesterday on top of us. The kids contstantly wrestle with one another, and there is bang, bang, banging all the time. The eldest daughter could also be heard yesterday morning getting quite a happy face on from her boyfriend, and when Guy tired of the "Mmmmm"ing, and "Ahhhh"ing coming from their room, his shouting could be heard around the neighborhood. (Think short, Italian, New Yorky hothead. Verrrrry expressive.)
At one point the banging was so loud, Serge had to call upstairs to tell the kids to stop. (Thinking that Guy must have run off to the store or something) Guy answered and it is just impossible to believe that he is present with all the banging going on. He must just tune it out or something. He acts like it's out of his hands. He screams at the kids, it's quiet for fifteen minutes, and then it starts again. Arrrgh.
I don't have much positive to say, so I guess I'll go. I'll try to cheer up, get outside a little. I've got a big week ahead. Oy.