It’s day 2. I’m surprised I didn’t call in sick, because trust me, I am ill. I got maybe two hours of sleep last night. Horrible headache, stomach pains, blurry vision, sore throat, and a general feeling of weirdness. But I woke up, no cigarette. Drove to work in the rush hour traffic, no cigarette. James was a sweetheart and brought me a bag of tootsie pops at work. Still chewing ice, not that it helps, but it keeps my mouth full so that I can’t scream or say what I’m really thinking. I’m still on the edge. My lunch hour will be a big test. I know I can do it, but I still don’t have to like it. I hope I get over this “illness” before my friends, family, coworkers, and James decide to banish me to an island and charge me with being an extremely moody megabitch. Well, guilty as charged.
