On occasion I like to take stock on my habits. I don’t drink often, so I don’t see an issue there. At most I might enjoy a glass of wine with dinner or a cold bottle of beer by the barbeque. I’ve never had a problem with drugs either. I discovered in high school that I’m allergic to pot. The rest of the drug world was closed off to me once the gateway drug was shut down. I’ve cut out my nastiest habit almost nine years ago, smoking. That was no picnic.
I will always remember the worst of it. I call it “Day Three”. I hated everything on that bleak day. I went to work picking fights wherever I could. I went head to head with my assistant manager fueled by my nicotine starved soul. The world was my ashtray and I ground the filter of my life into it over and over again. How could I possibly breathe in life without that sweet tobacco buffering my lungs? It sounds melodramatic, but that’s exactly how I felt.
Everyday past Day Three was a little bit easier. I survived. On top of that, I didn’t become one of those I-swore-it-off-now-I-hate-everyone-who-still-does-it people. I hand out with friends who smoke, and I don’t have that uncontrollable urge to light up. For the sake of honesty here, I still light up on rare occasion, but usually after a puff or two I get sick to my stomach.
Now I’ve come to realize I have another addiction that needs serious attention
What was once used for research and social engagement, has turned into escapism and total loss of productivity. Just the other day I found myself cycling through the eight main sites I frequent, again and again, in hopes that something had changed in the three minutes I last checked.
That’s bad. Maybe not as bad as this kid, but still bad.
So I’m here to intervene on behalf of myself. I have too many other things I need to do instead of wasting time cleaning out my spam filter. However, cold turkey isn’t the way to go. The internet is still a valuable tool and with everything I do, unavoidable.
Do not fear. When properly called on, my will is iron clad. Don’t believe me? Let me tell you how I quit smoking.
From day one, I kept a pack of cigarettes on my person until the day I knew I had kicked the habit. I had to prove to MYSELF that I was, in fact, tougher than the cigarette. After about a month I moved that pack to the glove box of my truck. While rooting through the glove box six months later, I came across that pack and threw them away. I’d like to say that I came up with that myself. I didn’t. My grandfather told that was how he quit when he was younger.
Grandpa was a man’s man, the kind of guy John Wayne would’ve look up to. Someday I’ll have to relate some stories. Back to the intervention at hand.
You might be worried about my the state of my blogs. Don’t be. If anything, my posts will become frequent and steady again. I don’t have to be online to write them, just to post them. I won’t be around as much, but I still plan to have a presence.
Am I the only one to have this problem? Probably not. But who else is man enough to first admit it, and then do something about it?