clear skies

ive got to give up smoking.

not for good, but for at least a week and a half. until i get my surgery. i dont know how im gonna do it. the moment i was told i needed to give up the smoke, i immediately needed one. the urge to inhale was overwhelming. a feeling of desperation washed over me. i was literally dying for a cigarette.

so tonight ive deemed my finish line. from here on out the race is over. i gotta give em up before my head hits the pillow. when morning comes, i'll be nicotine free. pink lungs. deep breaths. filled with stamina. all that.

ive been brooding about it, of course. as i am one to do. brood. but ive also kept a sense of humor too, making jokes at the expense of my predicament. for instance, when i tell someone im getting surgery on my spine and they ask, -oh, how long is it going to take? how long will you be in the hospital? i usually respond to this, in a very calm and matter of fact voice -well, the actual operation will take two weeks, but its pretty routine. i should only be in a wheelchair for a couple of years at most and by my mid thirties the doctor says i should be able to play racquetball again. this usually drops their jaws and their eyes swell up with sadness and concern. then i just give em the GOTCHA! look and carry on feeling quite pleased with myself.

i came up with a good one today. a coworker asked -well, what exactly are you getting operated for? to this i promptly replied with the straightest face possible: well, lets just say when i get back to the office, instead of Jon i will prefer to be called Joanna.

in actuality i should be in the hospital for two days and in bed for four weeks. not to bad i guess. but not to funny either.

jesus christ, the things i go through to make it to 30.