No Free Rides, Monkey!

Project LOLA: The Continuing Saga

I probably shouldn't still be awake and farting around on the computer as the clock nears 1 AM, but it's either this, or I'd be poking my nose in the fridge for a snack, or outside burning a cigar.

I've had three cigars in the past 4 days, topping my usual one per week by a significant factor. Right now I want another one.

Better that than a cheeseburger, nicht wahr?

Ummm... maybe not.

I used to get this feeling way back when I was smoking cigarettes. I remember the urge quite well. You'd get that itchy antsy-in-the-pantsiness that would only be relieved when you went outside and kickstarted a Camel Filter. Old addictions die hard, and I still get the infrequent urges to smoke a cigarette, even though the last pack I bought was in 1995.

I'd hate to be trading one addiction for another. It's a food addiction that led to Project LOLA, to be sure. It's debatable as to whether the actual addiction mechanism is to the pleasure received by stuffing my piehole, or some biochemical reaction in how my body reacts to food, or even some dark insidious psychosexual jerkoff by my lizard brainstem. Whatever the cause, I'm wired in such a way that the long-term effects are given short shrift in favor of short-term gratification.

Swapping food for tobacco seems just a different path on the road to ruin. All things in moderation, as they say, and right now, I'm teetering on the edge. The cigar on Poker Night last Friday? All well & good. Another the following evening? Not the wisest course, but preferable to a plate of Fettucini Alfredo.

Yet another cigar this afternoon? Understandable in light of the need to decompress after receiving the whopping truck repair bill, but now the nicotine level in my blood has reached the TSR level, and it's calling for more.

Gotdam monkey wants to climb on my back and go for another ride. I might need some monkey repellent. I hope they have a sugar-free version...