forty-eight hours and running

I haven't smoked since 6:00 a.m. on Wednesday, which, for the more mathematical among us, is more than 48 hours. This is an accomplishment all by itself, but it comes with a catch.

I'm on vacation. Specifically, I'm at a conference.

I'm not on my home field, surrounded by people who are used to Greenthumb Green. Right now, I'm the guy on your basketball team who frustrates you because he doesn't perform well at home.

I feel more at ease right now, definitely. I haven't had much caffeine over the past 48, nor have I found myself being the wallflower I tend to be when I'm blazed. In fact, I've been downright outgoing the last two days.

Granted, it's not a challenge to meet new people at a conference. Conferences are perhaps the easiest place to let go of those things that keep us going at home--television, caffeine, marijuana.

The key is to take the confidence gained at the conference and apply it to your everyday life. It's not easy to change routines unless you get a bit of a head start. I'm flying home Sunday, which means I'll have a four-day head start. I know I'll want to hit the bong as soon as I touch down. I want to stop myself. . . I'm not convinced I'll be able to.

If a female treated me as badly as marijuana did, I'd drop that bitch in a heartbeat.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]