It’s been 40 days and 40 nights since I smoked a cigarette. I needed to tell you that because it’s something I’m pretty proud of, and I’m trying to practice positive reinforcement with myself. Also, there are other willpower-requiring things I’d like to do now that I’m no longer enslaved by nicotine and unable to draw a clean breath. I’d like to give the whole plant-based eating thing another shot, and I’d like to start walking a few days a week. I’m not going to make any resolutions, but I am going to start doing better. It is, after all, that time of year. It’s also about six months until mandatory swimsuit time, and this year I’d like to not scare people.
In an undeniable act of solidarity, my husband has decided to do all of this with me, and believe it or not, he’s as excited as I am about using some of the tax return money (that we might one day receive if The Orange Dude ever decides to stop being a baby and reopen the government) to buy a Vitamix so we can make the wonderful cheese looking stuff that all vegans must have in order to survive without wanting to kill people. Honestly, I think I’d probably be okay without it, but the teenagers have staged several THERE’S-NO-CHEESE-IN-THE-HOUSE-related coups in the past year, and I guess we’re going to have to make at least a few concessions if we want to keep the peace.
Since we quit smoking and I’ve regained my sense of smell, I have become something of a scent whore. I hope I smell as good as I think I do, but as you might know, it’s kind of difficult to smell yourself. By the time I might be able to tell if a particular scent is negatively reacting with my body chemistry, I have pretty much already gotten used to it. Obviously, I’m going to have to empanel some judges to follow me around and give minute-by-minute updates. They may have to give me their reports in writing when my husband’s around though–we’re getting pretty serious about our binge TV watching lately, and he might get resentful if there’s too much extraneous talking during his Jethro Gibbs or Raymond Reddington time. Truth be told, I’d prefer no one to talk during either of these shows as well, so I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and stop caring if I smell like a cheap, dime store floozy. In any case, my husband seems to like it.
Anyway, nice to see you all in this brand new year. I know this was a brief hello considering the intervening month, but I thought a little light-hearted something would do me some good. Here’s hoping we’re about to get a good cleansing rain to wash away some of the stanky political shit that’s been hanging on. We could use a nice breath of fresh air, yes?