Today my thinking is getting back to where it should be. I don't feel like such a space cadet. In fact, I felt awesome when I woke up this morning, despite not getting much sleep. My sleep pattern is seriously screwed. I wake up every hour or every two hours, and I sit there for what seems like an eternity before I realize that I am actually awake.

Still have the chills today, but the itching is gone. The irritability is gone. The anger is gone, I feel great. I haven't done much thinking about smoking, I really haven't had much for cravings either. I think today marks the downhill section of the race to quit.

I have noticed my appetite has increased quite a bit. I've loaded my desk with sunflower seeds, gum, and carrots to curb my desire to eat. I have to remind myself that getting over the nicotine addiction doesn't give me an excuse to start some sort of food addiction. Judging by the way I used to smoke if I don't get the eating under control I'll be the size of a small blimp within weeks!

I'm a little disappointed in myself today. My thoughts of smoking and about smoking are more frequent and compelling then they were yesterday. I feel like some sort of creepy, obsessed ex-lover, ducking down in my 1980's sports car as I watch Nicotine pass me by. I know nothing good will come of our relationship, and Nicotine will only hurt me in the end, but it feels so good when we're together.

Apparently, I need a restraining order and some fucking therapy.

I regret this being such a random event; I could have been smart and planned it out. I wish I would have chosen a Friday to quit. It's so hard to focus on little tasks and get things done at work. I've been staring at a static PC monitor for most of the day and I still can't collect enough thoughts to get my work done. Even an attempt to write a few sentences for this blog has taken me an extensive amount of time. It would have been a lot easier to start on a Friday and sleep off the side-effects over the weekend, bet staying asleep has been a real bitch. I have been waking up every hour or so, wide eyed for a brief moment or two before I catch a glimpse of the clock. I scolding myself for being wide awake and a complete fucking idiot at three in the morning.

The chills and itchiness are still with me today, the intensity has not subsided for either. Something new to complain about today though, the back of my legs are probably the worst with "pins and needles." I've consumed plenty of water, a decent amount of food, a few OTC pain relievers, but nothing is helping so far. I haven't felt anything spectacular as far as healing and recovery go, but then again it's only day two and most of time I'm not really giving a fuck.

The junkie hasn't come out of me yet today, but I'm expecting its return in full force. Yesterday was pretty rough as I began rationalizing my nic-fits with emotions that I've never even known about prior to quitting. I was jealous of other smokers that were ingesting all the nasty crap associated with smoking.

My fucking jaw hurts. I am tired of chewing gum. I stole Mango-Berry flavored gum off the kitchen counter this morning and I am sick of it's stale fucking flavor. Normally I enjoy chewing spearmint gum, but since I associate that flavor with occasionally lighting up a cigarette, I've decided to try something new. I have to remind myself every so often not to eat it, it's not fucking candy. I force myself to NOT swallow a new piece of fruity sensation that pounds the withdrawal of nicotine right into the unforgiving clench of my teeth as they chew with resentment.

My skin itches as if I've rolled myself in a pile of insulation just after a hot shower. My feet, hands, throat, back, face, ears, scalp, and places that I didn't even know could itch are screaming for fingernails to rip open my flesh.

Yesterday I wrote down my reasoning to quit using tobacco and I felt good about the decision I was making. After just 12 hours I have turned into a fucking junkie ready to pawn my own mother off to an all male prison for just one drag.