There’s this super organised, hard working girl at the library I usually study at. I have seen her there countless times. She is there before I am and is usually there as I leave for the day. She studies for hours at a time, occasionally stopping to sip some water from her aluminum bottle. I usually take a break every hour and a bit to grab a coffee, browse through some books and then settle down back in my chair in the” quiet room”. She stays plastered on her chair, her eyes glued to the laptop or her notes, at any given time. I doubt she notices when I leave the room or come back. I sometimes stare at her, admiring her diligence. I hope she doesn’t notice. If she does notice, she probably thinks I’m a big time weirdo. Once a week, we look up from our studies and exchange small smiles. But she is still a stranger to me.
In the last year, the library has become my second home. It’s where I mean serious business. I have an awesome study area at home, however I get side tracked easily when I’m in pyjamas. Today I am studying from home. Strawberry Net tab is open for that new foundation, another tab open for dream holiday destinations. And I have been eating not so nutritious snacks lately– at the moment it’s burger rings. At the library I can’t eat these deliciously addictive rings of MSG. Crunching as I please. The only sound that is heard in the quiet room is the typing of keypads and pages of academic notes being turned, the occasional chair being moved slowly, and once in a while, the glass door is carefully opened and closed again in slow motion. We all take extreme care in not making any noise or disturbing anyone else in this quiet sanctuary. We’re all walking on egg shells, but that’s what makes this room so great.
I am not competing with this model student. I admire her. When I have a huge study load, I just get overwhelmed. I am a big time procrastinator. I’m at my peak study mode when I am cornered with nowhere to run or hide (such as when work is due the next day). But she seems to be productive all the time. Cool as a cucumber, not lifting her head, or frowning or huffing and puffing- as I do. Without saying a single word, she has encouraged me to finish many of my tasks, many of my essays, and to keep learning. She has even become one of the reasons I devote myself to my studies on the days where I would rather be hurled up under a blanket. She pushes me to be a better student, to study harder, to concentrate. And I want to thank this stranger girl. Thank you. You have been my greatest source of inspiration in the past year.
Even though, you will never know- or maybe you do (because you see me staring at you once in a while). Perhaps one day, when you take that much earned break and we get a chance to speak, I will tell you what a source of inspiration you have been to me.
***Tomorrow, I am definitely studying at the library. This is a complete procasti-blog post.
I’ve just passed the one month mark! I have not laid a finger on a cigarette for 31 days in total. And I just want to shout out to the world “I FEEL FAN-BLOODY-TASTIC!”
If only I had known that I would have felt this great, positive and energetic– I would have quit ages ago!
Here’s an update on my quit:
I had a huge car accident about three weeks ago, and hit my lowest point that day in terms of nicotine cravings. After being taken to emergency and having all my medical check-ups cleared and making sure there were no internal bleeding (biggest fear), Dunhill looked me straight in the eyes and said “It’s okay. Today is okay. Smoke me, and everything will be better.”
I desperately wanted to be comforted by my old friend. I tried to justify my need to smoke by telling myself that we were all going to die any ways… look, I had an accident and could have died, so who cares about trying to prolong your life span ( when a car or another tragic accident could take your life anyway). Short term gratitude, for long term harm didn’t seem so bad.
I didn’t respond to that urge. I waited it out. I tossed and turned and felt like a drug addict. On one hand, this was a justifiable day to smoke, on the other- my commitment to myself. It was painfully tough.
A good friend of mine called just in time and told me something powerful enough to make me overcome my urges: “If you don’t smoke tonight of all times, this means that you’ll never smoke- no matter how stressful your situations.” I took her words in and talked myself out of puffing on a cancer stick.
Thank goodness I didn’t smoke that day. It’s the day that I always refer back to when I get an annoying craving (which is every once in a blue moon now).
Nothing can replace the feeling of health. I honestly feel great, healthy and positive about everything else in my life. There is nothing positive about smoking.
31 days later… and many stressful occasions later- I have victory! This is a huge deal for me. And I am very proud of myself.
The last puff took place on the 20th of January 2015, around 9.30pm.
As I took my last drag of Dunhill Blue that night, I made another commitment to myself- no more smoking! Not a single puff. Ever.
As much as I have semi-enjoyed my friendship with Dunhill, I knew- for a long time now, that it was reaching an end. Our friendship was just plain toxic (pun intended). Dunhill was killing me, and I was willingly allowing this murder to take place.
In the last year and a bit, I have made a real strong commitment towards reaching my optimal health potential and am extremely proud of my hard work and dedication. At this very moment, I feel as though I need to reach over and pat my own back! I exercise regularly (gym membership is definitely not a waste for me), I do yoga at least once a week, I drink plenty of water, eat healthy (thanks Nutri-Bullet for the extra boost) and I also go for hour long walks early in the morning- a couple of times a week. So it only makes sense, that I quit smoking. Don’t get me wrong- I have moments of intense weakness (and awkward feelings), where I “think” I miss my old friend. But I remind myself that Dunhill is no friend!
Dunhill is a two-faced frenemy- who is plotting against me and slowly working its way towards my death.
It has been 5 days since my last puff, and I am happy to say that I am a non-smoker! I’m not going to lie, it has been challenging (my goodness, has it been challenging!). I have never been a heavy smoker, with one packet lasting me three days. But none the less, now I am spending $75 less each week towards my own murder. And now plan on spending that extra cash on things that benefit me- I’ve already saved $40 according to MyQuitBuddy app. I’ve purchased a new Eco-friendly yoga mat yesterday, as both a reward and a motivation to keep going.
So there, I quit. I quit killing myself. I don’t care if Kate Moss is still doing it!
Anyone else on a quit journey? Feel free to comment and share your experience 🙂
I’m going to divide this question into two parts. Firstly I will answer why write this? And secondly, I’ll explain (as briefly as possible) why I write in general.
The reason that I have decided to start my own blog and share my opinions is 1) I love writing 2) I needed an outlet to express myself and my opinions, a blog seems ideal. I use to share a lot of my opinion/thoughts via Facebook posts, however I have come to accept that there are people ( a minority- according to me), who do not want my opinion (for whatever reason), but I do know there were many who enjoyed my opinions and thoughts (they tell me so). So I have decided that a Blog is my safe place (hopefully), where I can share whatever it is that I want to share. And the great thing is, the minority who do not like human emotions or opinions or open mindedness- need not read. It’s a win-win situation for us all.
As the cliché goes- I have always loved to write. From the first time in prep, when I first learnt how to write my name (in wiggly, grey led writing), I knew that I would love writing. It fascinates me that we can write something and it can have a profound effect on someone’s life. And this love further developed when I started reading- or being read to as a child. By the time I was 8 years old, I was on my way to reading the entire Goosebumps series. The author, R.L. Stine, inspired me to write and be imaginative and my spark of creativity (when it came to writing) stemmed from my love of his books and the places they would take me. I have multiple copies of my unfinished horror stories from my ten year old self. Unfortunately, after graduating high school, I decided to make my parents proud and pursue a “real career”- which led me to an incomplete degree in Education (2 years of studying), which led me to deferring university for a year (or 6 years) and taking a position at the bank, which lasted five years. I have done plenty of different things in between and tried out many careers in the time that I deferred til today. I always find myself dreaming of a career in writing… PLUS my parents no longer pressure me about a “real career”. So here I am, almost a year into my Bachelor of Arts, majoring in Professional Writing and Publishing. We shall see where this road takes us… but it is certainly one that I am enjoying.
P.S- This was my introductory blog post 🙂