I have one cigarette left in a pack of Marlboros I bought last week. I'm going to make it my last. For now.
I've smoked off and on since college. The habit kicks in again during stressful times, and the last year has been a stressful time.
It's a nasty habit. I hate the way it makes my hands smell. I hate the way my mouth tastes when I'm done. I hate the way I can't breath when I'm biking up the hill to my house.
I hide it. I don't want my kids thinking it's okay. If I've learned anything about parenting, it's that they'll do what I do, not what I say. So I hide it. When they're engrossed in t.v., I sneak out to the front of the house and light up. I sit where they can't see me if they run outside looking for me and I can put it out before they find me. My neighbors must think I've lost my mind.
My favorite smoke is the last one before I go to bed. I like the first one in the morning, too. The ones in between make me feel enslaved.
I want to be around long enough to enjoy grandchildren, so tomorrow, after I get to work and have some coffee, I'm going to smoke the last one and then go cold turkey. And we'll see how that goes.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Waiting is the Hardest Part
I caught a ride from my AA meeting to my DUI class. It's all about alcoholism today. Some people go to church on Sundays. I work on not ever picking up another drink.
At any rate, I have about 45 minutes before class begins, so I'm just hanging out outside. Goes without saying that I wait around a lot more than I did when I could drive. Wait at bus stops. Wait at Starbucks if I'm early, or late, to the bus stop. For some reason, the dogs have been waking me up in the night to go outside, so I wait half asleep in the doorway for them to come back in. (this has nothing to do with losing my license, but it has coincided with that event, so sometimes it feels related).
Last week I waited at the courthouse to set up a payment plan for my fine, and then waited again to meet with the substance abuse assessment counselor. The thing I'm waiting for is not usually unpleasant. In fact, the counselor practically gave me a gold star for being in recovery already. It was nice to hear, and I'm glad I saved us both the trouble of him trying to convince me to get some help.
These DUI classes aren't too bad either. There's a feeling of camaraderie. They remind me a bit of high school. There are class clowns, pretty girls, jocks. Lots of rules, too. Your cellphone has to be off. Can't even vibrate or you get kicked out for the day and pay 25 bucks to reschedule. No tank tops, no mini skirts, no shower shoes. You can wear flip flops, but I'm at a loss to understand the difference between flip flops and shower shoes. Wear the prohibited item and you're out. No food, no beverages, except water in it's original water bottle. Don't be late, or they'll lock you out and you pay $25 to reschedule. The whole thing has a bit of an army bootcamp feel. I don't mind it so much. What I do mind is that to get here on my own steam, I have to take two buses. The irony of this nags at me. Really? It couldn't m
be on a major bus line? Or is this part of an effort to make life such a pain in the ass that we'll never drink and drive again?
I'd better go in now. Eight minutes left, and I don't want to be late.
At any rate, I have about 45 minutes before class begins, so I'm just hanging out outside. Goes without saying that I wait around a lot more than I did when I could drive. Wait at bus stops. Wait at Starbucks if I'm early, or late, to the bus stop. For some reason, the dogs have been waking me up in the night to go outside, so I wait half asleep in the doorway for them to come back in. (this has nothing to do with losing my license, but it has coincided with that event, so sometimes it feels related).
Last week I waited at the courthouse to set up a payment plan for my fine, and then waited again to meet with the substance abuse assessment counselor. The thing I'm waiting for is not usually unpleasant. In fact, the counselor practically gave me a gold star for being in recovery already. It was nice to hear, and I'm glad I saved us both the trouble of him trying to convince me to get some help.
These DUI classes aren't too bad either. There's a feeling of camaraderie. They remind me a bit of high school. There are class clowns, pretty girls, jocks. Lots of rules, too. Your cellphone has to be off. Can't even vibrate or you get kicked out for the day and pay 25 bucks to reschedule. No tank tops, no mini skirts, no shower shoes. You can wear flip flops, but I'm at a loss to understand the difference between flip flops and shower shoes. Wear the prohibited item and you're out. No food, no beverages, except water in it's original water bottle. Don't be late, or they'll lock you out and you pay $25 to reschedule. The whole thing has a bit of an army bootcamp feel. I don't mind it so much. What I do mind is that to get here on my own steam, I have to take two buses. The irony of this nags at me. Really? It couldn't m
be on a major bus line? Or is this part of an effort to make life such a pain in the ass that we'll never drink and drive again?
I'd better go in now. Eight minutes left, and I don't want to be late.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Paying the Piper
I am officially sentenced.
The DA dropped the resisting arrest charge after all. I was sentenced for a first-time DUI and refusing a chemical test. The judge gave me time served for the community service requirement. I'm left to fulfill the following: a 3-month DUI program and a fine. The fine is $1980. My lawyer cost me $2000. I have to pay the DMV $125. The DUI class is $477. I still owe my parents $550 for bailing me out and getting my car out of hock. Luckily, the court and the DUI program have payment plans. My parents are extremely lenient creditors. Nevertheless, paying all of this off isn't going to be a cake walk. I work for the government, after all.
I went to the orientation for my DUI class today and it was not an uplifting experience. I'm going to be spending a lot of time there over the next three months. I have to go to a weekly group therapy session for twelve weeks. I have to go to an education class for six weeks, and I have to have three one-on-one meetings with a counselor. I also have to go to three "self-help" meetings (AA). Of course, I go to 3-4 of these a week anyway.
Don't get me wrong. I am fully aware that these are the fair and square consequences of my actions and no one else's doing. They played a Tom Brokaw production while we waited for our numbers to be called to set up our class schedule. It was a documentary about what happened to a carful of kids who were hit by a drunk driver. One died. One was seriously injured, requiring months of surgeries and physical therapy. All the survivors were psychologically scarred and incurred thousands of dollars in medical bills--the driver was uninsured and they weren't fully covered by their own insurance companies, if they had health insurance at all. It was depressing. So don't get me wrong. I'm grateful and lucky that this is all there was. Extremely grateful that no one was hurt, or killed. That my kids weren't in the car with me.
But I think because I have been working a program and managing my car-less situation in fairly good spirits, I had started to put the events of January 16 behind me. Today was just a reminder that there is a lot more work to do. And I guess I was chagrined to find myself properly in the company of--there's no other way to say it--common criminals.
The DA dropped the resisting arrest charge after all. I was sentenced for a first-time DUI and refusing a chemical test. The judge gave me time served for the community service requirement. I'm left to fulfill the following: a 3-month DUI program and a fine. The fine is $1980. My lawyer cost me $2000. I have to pay the DMV $125. The DUI class is $477. I still owe my parents $550 for bailing me out and getting my car out of hock. Luckily, the court and the DUI program have payment plans. My parents are extremely lenient creditors. Nevertheless, paying all of this off isn't going to be a cake walk. I work for the government, after all.
I went to the orientation for my DUI class today and it was not an uplifting experience. I'm going to be spending a lot of time there over the next three months. I have to go to a weekly group therapy session for twelve weeks. I have to go to an education class for six weeks, and I have to have three one-on-one meetings with a counselor. I also have to go to three "self-help" meetings (AA). Of course, I go to 3-4 of these a week anyway.
Don't get me wrong. I am fully aware that these are the fair and square consequences of my actions and no one else's doing. They played a Tom Brokaw production while we waited for our numbers to be called to set up our class schedule. It was a documentary about what happened to a carful of kids who were hit by a drunk driver. One died. One was seriously injured, requiring months of surgeries and physical therapy. All the survivors were psychologically scarred and incurred thousands of dollars in medical bills--the driver was uninsured and they weren't fully covered by their own insurance companies, if they had health insurance at all. It was depressing. So don't get me wrong. I'm grateful and lucky that this is all there was. Extremely grateful that no one was hurt, or killed. That my kids weren't in the car with me.
But I think because I have been working a program and managing my car-less situation in fairly good spirits, I had started to put the events of January 16 behind me. Today was just a reminder that there is a lot more work to do. And I guess I was chagrined to find myself properly in the company of--there's no other way to say it--common criminals.
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