No smoking beyond this point.

I should really stop smoking. Day one.
I need to stop smoking. I don't even smoke that much, and i resent paying near enough £5 for a pack of something that makes me phlemy and possibly cancerous.
So day one has just gone by, and it went as follows.
7.30am Alarm goes off. It's that bloody piano ring tone on my phone i have set as my alarm clock. Alarm gets snoozed.
7.40am Snoozed.
7.50am Snoozed.
8.00am Snoozed.
8.10am Snoozed.
8.20am Snoozed.
8.30am Snoozed
8.40am Snoozed, but then the sudden panic sets in, as the realization dawns on me that i've snoozed 8 times and now have limited time to get ready. No time for ironing that crumbled blue stripey shirt which has been described as "public school". It's not public school, and it's from Next for God's sake. No one likes Next, and what the hell is a 'sake'?
Clothes on, hair as crumpled as my shirt, and there's always time to go round my eyes with a bit of eyeliner to at least make me look like my eyes are half open.
Out the door. No breakfast. Who has breakfast nowadays?
In the car. Oh God. In the car, by this point i'm usually opening a small box of smokes and trying to find a lighter in the glove box. There's never any gloves in the glove box. I handle it, the glove box confusion, and the lack of morning nicotine.

I park the car up at work. Get out of the car. I'M SO ANGRY BY THIS POINT.

Walking into the office, scowling A LOT, I'm greeted by "good mornings". I really hate that people are speaking to me. I make a noise in reply which resembles a pig going through the menopause.

I decide to substitue cigarettes for Dr Pepper. There's hardly any difference, it'll be fine, and probably cheaper. I'm convincing myself.

No, i'm still really furious, and now it's lunch time. My usuall next cigarette engagement. I want to go to Tescos because i want a scrap book. They want to go to Morrisons because they want a salad tray. We go to Morrisons. There are no scrap books in Morrisons. I buy Dr Pepper. And cigarettes.