My 18th birthday present to myself was a pack of cigarettes. Since then, I have absolutely adored smoking, loved it every bit of the process that goes into smoking a cigarette, had fun finding which brand worked for me, met a lot of new friends, never felt uncomfortable by myself in public as long as I was smoking, and....god, I miss it. It's been 24 hours since my last cigarette, my lungs are in pain, I'm coughing up some really gross stuff, I can't stop cracking my knuckles and shoulders and neck, I'm chewing so obsessively on a straw that I'm afraid I'm going to digest it, I'm lightheaded and can't concentrate on anything at work.
Did I mention I'm going cold turkey? Like, hey, I've smoked almost a pack a day for five years and now I'm not going to anymore. Whatevs!
I can't drink any alcohol or I'll want a cigarette. I can't eat anything or I'll want a cigarette. I can't go fucking outside or I'll want a goddamn motherfucking cigarette. The only thing I can do is tap my foot, drum my fingers, and attempt to get some work done.