July 7, 2003
Awake 7am. Fly to the kitchen, start coffee. Return to bed, re-set alarm, 7:30. Reach for pad, eyes closed. Yawn, stretch, appreciate life. Wait for the inspiration which ordinarily flows when I take my time in the morning. Nothing happens. Momentary perplexity, worry. It hits me. I smoked yesterday. Day before too, come to think of it. Shit. Cigarettes. Evil bastards. Guilt and regret wash over me, no way to start the day. The numbness. It's why we do it, but we forget, it's an indiscriminate numbness. A massive, heavy, wet blanket. Grey. Even coming is harder when I smoke.