How I quit smoking. A journal written while I was doing it - Day #1

Day #1
I woke up this morning with the taste of absolute shit in my mouth. I know that after you quit some things start to change or work well, but I had no recollection of this ungodly taste (and probably smell) that resided in my mouth, probably coming from the viscous, chunky liquid that was my saliva.
After doing the usual morning toilet routine (adding 3 extra brushings and drinking about half a bottle of mouthwash), my morning coffee ritual (vacantly drink it while I stare half-conscious into my computer’s screen) and my morning “holy shit I’m late for work AGAIN” ritual I (hastily) left for work. What I didn’t know was that all this glorious ritualistic slacking off was really just a cocoon of safety. I seldom smoke indoors (bars don’t count) and even less at home so as long as I was still in my home I didn’t feel the urge.
Also there was another problem. There’s a little ritual I have had. Every morning I would smoke about half a cigarette to a cigarette waiting for the bus and another getting off the bus at work (it’s a 15 minute ride). This morning however, – after spending 10 minutes downwind from what appeared to be a local chapter of the National Smoker’s Association) –, I had the pleasure, nay HONOUR of being (as usual) bruised and battered by decrepit old fucks in the bus, smelling their dead bodies and everyone else’s armpit juice with no destructive chemicals altering my senses at all, nothing to dull the edge there, not even a little bit.
Getting off the bus the only thing in my head was “I need a bloody cigarette; smoked, sucked, snorted, injected or rectally absorbed”. Hitting the wall of reality and sun (fucking summer), a small tear wet my cheek and quickly evaporated and with a sigh and wishing the death of every creature in the galaxy I headed to work.
It’s not nice to complain about co-workers so I won’t.

...

At about 3PM I borrowed a cigarette and felt happiest I’ve been since I was a child and my grandmother bought me an ice cream on a hot day waiting for a train…

...

SHIT! FUCKING SHIT!