17 days until...what's next, again?
Last night in the darkened living room Taylor told me that I promised to quit smoking on graduation (my birthday, 17 days from now.) I hardly remember making such a bogus promise, but apparently I'm obligated to do so, as he has based his quitting around mine, and around Ed's. "If Ed can quit, anyone can..." "If you don't quit on the 13th, you never will." Nothing seems manageable.
In seventeen days I have to:
1)Graduate and leave the only full-time role I've ever known: student. This is difficult because there are 1,000 exceptions and exemptions that are made based simply on this title, and I'm about to leave their comfort.
2)Turn 23, which is scarier than 22, which is less exciting than 21, which is less hopeful than 20.
3)Quit smoking?
Do not respond to this post with anti-smoking propaganda, I beg you. I know it's bad, I still love it. I have a love affair with Phillip Morris. If you tell me you're proud of me, consider our friendship over. hahahha, I'm sorry, listen, I don't sleep anymore.
...I have to go.
In seventeen days I have to:
1)Graduate and leave the only full-time role I've ever known: student. This is difficult because there are 1,000 exceptions and exemptions that are made based simply on this title, and I'm about to leave their comfort.
2)Turn 23, which is scarier than 22, which is less exciting than 21, which is less hopeful than 20.
3)Quit smoking?
Do not respond to this post with anti-smoking propaganda, I beg you. I know it's bad, I still love it. I have a love affair with Phillip Morris. If you tell me you're proud of me, consider our friendship over. hahahha, I'm sorry, listen, I don't sleep anymore.
...I have to go.