Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Now that my son has moved back to Maryland, I’m beginning to fall back into my old bad habits. He left Florida 18 days ago to be with his son, who, in turn, left with his mother 39 days ago. But who’s counting.

For many years I would go to sleep at 6 to 7 am and arise shortly after the “crack of noon”. During the early morning hours I would respond to my emails, drink mass quantities of alcoholic beverages and smoke many cigarettes. Occasionally there was actually something worth watching on television.

When my son and grandson lived with me my habits drastically changed. I started to drink mass quantities earlier in the day and usually would pass out on the couch before 2 am. I was awaking between 8 and 9 in the morning. It was the same amount sleep as before, just in a different time frame. This went on for nearly 6 months.

Last night I noticed a cloud of smoke in my living room when I turned on a light. I keep the lighting very low as my Blue eyes are very sensitive to light. A friend once commented that I live in a cave. For the past six months I did most of my smoking outdoors. Without son and grandson here, I now rarely go outside to smoke.

My son told me that my second hand smoke would give him a burning sensation in his lungs. “Dad, you have to quit this bad habit”. It’s easy to quit a good habit, but very hard to quit a bad one. The bad habits are the one that usually bring you pleasure.

I don’t really know what pleasure I derive from smoking cigarettes. But I do know that I am a calmer and much pleasant person when I do smoke them. When I had stopped smoking for nine months in the early 1990’s most everyone that knew me said that I was “nasty and miserable”. Is this from nicotine withdrawal?

I didn’t start smoking again because people thought I was “nasty and miserable”, when I wasn’t smoking. I enjoy being “nasty and miserable”. Somehow, I believe that these are good qualities in a person. My Dad was always “nasty and miserable” and he didn’t smoke. In fact, he would lecture me about the ills of my smoking and how it would lead to my premature demise. He almost lived to be 90 years old, I’ll be lucky to make it to 65.

Now I don’t mind being called nasty and miserable if that is the way one perceives me to be. You can think what you think, that’s your prerogative. I have many friends that understand me and accept me for who I am and what I am. A nasty and miserable old man!

I’m told that I am an over opinionated SOB that cares nothing about what people will say about me. Bad habits, yes, I have them. Am I going to change? Very doubtfully!

The Beach Bum