The many ways to break a bad habit.
There are many ways to break a bad habit. There is sheer willpower. There are various methods invented by ingenious souls (many sold in chemists as an attempt to make money. And then there is the discovery of the bad habit by your parental units.
In short: Mum found out today that I smoke. Oh, hell.
I was actually incredibly stunned that she wasn't very surprised (I was certain that if she had known she would have said something - at an incredibly high volume, too). She said she had suspected it for a while, but with all the operations going on on various parts of her body, she didn't have the energy to argue with me about it.
However, with the good comes the bad. Good: Mum is neither surprised nor angry at me. Bad: She is disappointed, and bringing the full power of her Jewish Guilt Attack to bear on me to ensure I quit the habit.
A whole unopened pack of cigarettes and the one I still had open with a few left in it have been surrendered to her, after a brief battle of wills where I gave in out of sheer disgust with her dirty tactics. She compared me to my Aunt Bev, deliberately turning a blind eye to my own harmful habit and becoming deceitful and poisoning myself, etc etc etc. All technically correct I suppose, but given that Bev was a terminal alcoholic and I am not a heavy smoker (and I smoke now more heavily than I ever have, and I STILL don't think I'm a heavy smoker) I don't think the comparison is exactly accurate.
She's offered to buy me a pack of Nicorette to help me quit. *sulks* I don't want Nicorette, I want the freedom to have a bloody cigarette once every now and again! Not that that's likely to happen now - she'll be keeping a close eye on me and that's for damn sure.
Oh yeah, and I had to see the bowel specialist today. A battering of guilt until I gave in on the matter of my one real vice was not what I needed right after the doctor put first his finger then a little telescopic-type thing up my arse.
Not to mention that we're a week behind in Anatomy and Physiology class because of a bad storm last week that cut a lesson short, and I am not even going to mention what my damn cat did after he crawled in my bed and snuggled up to me. Toby, that is what your LITTER TRAY is for!!
Gah. What a day.
In short: Mum found out today that I smoke. Oh, hell.
I was actually incredibly stunned that she wasn't very surprised (I was certain that if she had known she would have said something - at an incredibly high volume, too). She said she had suspected it for a while, but with all the operations going on on various parts of her body, she didn't have the energy to argue with me about it.
However, with the good comes the bad. Good: Mum is neither surprised nor angry at me. Bad: She is disappointed, and bringing the full power of her Jewish Guilt Attack to bear on me to ensure I quit the habit.
A whole unopened pack of cigarettes and the one I still had open with a few left in it have been surrendered to her, after a brief battle of wills where I gave in out of sheer disgust with her dirty tactics. She compared me to my Aunt Bev, deliberately turning a blind eye to my own harmful habit and becoming deceitful and poisoning myself, etc etc etc. All technically correct I suppose, but given that Bev was a terminal alcoholic and I am not a heavy smoker (and I smoke now more heavily than I ever have, and I STILL don't think I'm a heavy smoker) I don't think the comparison is exactly accurate.
She's offered to buy me a pack of Nicorette to help me quit. *sulks* I don't want Nicorette, I want the freedom to have a bloody cigarette once every now and again! Not that that's likely to happen now - she'll be keeping a close eye on me and that's for damn sure.
Oh yeah, and I had to see the bowel specialist today. A battering of guilt until I gave in on the matter of my one real vice was not what I needed right after the doctor put first his finger then a little telescopic-type thing up my arse.
Not to mention that we're a week behind in Anatomy and Physiology class because of a bad storm last week that cut a lesson short, and I am not even going to mention what my damn cat did after he crawled in my bed and snuggled up to me. Toby, that is what your LITTER TRAY is for!!
Gah. What a day.