My mood is foul. I hate everything. Tomorrow will be a week since quitting cigarettes.
I don’t see the point of anything. The quitting, the van experiment, this blog. Especially this blog. I feel like a dancing goddamn monkey.
But I set some stupid fucking goals, so I’m sticking with them. Trying to keep perspective. Half-assing it is 50% better than not doing it at all, so here I am.
I really don’t have anything of value to contribute to your Tuesday.
Except maybe this: if you’re a smoker, do yourself a favor and KEEP SMOKING.