Something in the first chapter that hits home for me: how much better smoking is in retrospect than reality.
The memory of the perfect cigarette never goes away: on the porch on a sunny day, with a book and coffee/a cold beer; outside at the party, talking and trying to get laid; 2 am at your desk, one more smoke and this sentence will say what I mean.
Then as soon as you break and light one up, the romance vanishes completely.
I smoked on and off for about ten years, and eventually stopped because I realized that no matter how nice the anticipation of it was, immediately afterwards I felt dirty and depressed. I quit for good almost twenty years ago, and the interesting this is now the dirty and depressed feeling is still palpable when I think about it, but I only remember the anticipation as a symbol. I remember *that* the anticipation happened, but not what it felt like.
I was taught by J. M. Barrie’s nephew. A wonderful person that had a great impact on my desire to become a scientist despite my earlier failings and shortcomings. He was so well regarded.
Nicotine is a wonderful antidote for insomnia, not by putting you to sleep, but to be present with your own thoughts while the world is snoozing. I’ve lately had a 2mg piece of nicotine gum around midnight each night. It’s a surprisingly productive hour in this routine. It pairs well with a contemplative stroll around the block perhaps with some stargazing if the clouds are gone. It’s remarkably easy to focus when the whole world is asleep!
I do find the same great productivity and focus at the same hour (usually). However, this happens from my sleep schedule sliding to where I end up nocturnal, not from something like caffeine or nicotine. Waking up at 11PM and staying up until the late AM of the next day.
correct, nicotine is great as long as it's not smoked, what's extremely bad, and I can feel it everyday with my smoking neighbor are the smoke compounds. It hurts my eyes, throat, nose, head..
Something in the first chapter that hits home for me: how much better smoking is in retrospect than reality.
The memory of the perfect cigarette never goes away: on the porch on a sunny day, with a book and coffee/a cold beer; outside at the party, talking and trying to get laid; 2 am at your desk, one more smoke and this sentence will say what I mean.
Then as soon as you break and light one up, the romance vanishes completely.