quitting

We all have heard just how hard it is to quit smoking. But each item you can smoke has its own unique level of difficulty when it comes to the matter of quitting. The two examples most prevalent in my life, weed and cigarettes, seem to be on opposite sides of the board. With cigarettes, sure they're gross as all hell and yet in some unnameable way still desirable. They make your chest feel tight and your throat raspy and any subtle cough habitual. Yet I still crave them. They're amazing post-sex and a little too much post bowl. They invented dualism, I think. We want to quit them forever-- once and for all, but just can't seem to pass by the Tobacco Connection if we got more than five bucks in our pockets. And then there's the herb. Makes you cough, however unlike the cigarettes the weed cough happens immediately and not so frequently later on. This one I had no desire to quit for the longest time. Sure, its much more expensive than regular tobacco and its illegal, but since when did that deter anyone from doing anything? Its a luxurious and Utopious feeling being blazed. It helps you sleep, overeat, and saY "OH WELL," and "WHATEVER" a lot more. Alas, I need to find some way to keep the wonderful qualities I inhale while keeping my pipe empty and my bank account fuller. We talked of contracts. One between my lover and I, my bestie and I; and my fellow Scorpio has already penned one with her parents with financial aid for a new vehicle and her college education hanging in the balance. We all need to quit, be it for money, safety, education, transportation, or just to clear out our smoky domes. No more can we push our quit date back even a single day. Last evening, we sat down at 11:08pm with roughly $30-$40 worth of greens. Determined to get rid of it, we decided we'd kill it all last night so that none of us had any left for the morning which would hinder our progress by yet one more day. There were three of us to start. After four bowls, we had to call in the reserves. We were dragging our feet through the whole thing. So, I placed a call to my Californian buddies. All the whili thinking baout how, a year ago, we would have rejoiced at having any excuse to burn so many bowls in a given evening. Now, it seemed, our interest in general was waning. Once our help arrived, there were five. So we went our for a quick smoke (on a cig) and rearranged our seats on the bed and began again. The supply in the bags dwindled and dwindled, after our sixth bowl, I think we forgot how very close we were to being done. Just done. After realizing just how cached the bowl in my hand was, I reached blindly into the baggie I was working from to feel...NADA! It was gone! ALL GONE! We quietly congratulated ourselves and one another. There was a sense of relief in the air which couldn't have been suffocated even by the copious amounts of smoke and haze. Scorpio was the first to bail out and get to bed, then the Californians. I immediately ripped my bedsheets aside and nestled into what had suddenly become the most comfortable bed in history. I went under almost as soon as I had laid my head upon my massive stack of pillows. Unless I was dreaming, I believe I may have even turned down a sexual romp. Which is just more proof how necessary this quitting is. One should never turn down legitimate, fabulous, love-laced sex...even if they are insanely high. So now, the money I would normally be throwing into the tobacco company's arms or stimulating my local dealer's economies will be split between my savings account and tanning beds. I want a freckle for every bowl I WOULD HAVE smoked littering my cheeks. Granted, a month from now, I will waste two entire bags with roughly the same people in one day...Hey, I got start somewhere.