18th.November.

18 November
Have just nicely got up. 15 hrs kip.
I did wake up this morning at 6.30, had a cig and listened to the gale force wind; it was then I decided to have a long session in bed,
The wind has not abated and I have to draw the curtains to shut out the strong sunlight which was shining into my eyes making them water; I remove the contacts, wishing I’d done that prior to going to sleep last night.
I check the bottles and am surprised at how little I had drunk last night.
Half bottle of cider and the neck of the scotch,
All in all a good kip for the amount consumed.
Plenty left for today.
I consider returning to bed soon because of the lack of entertainment value of a Saturday.
The baccy I bought last night is a brand I’ve avoided for years, its proving hard work to get a smoke out of,
Just what I need to piss me off.
I have a quick glance through the local news, nothing too interesting, there is just enough light to show the keys so am practising my touch-typing.
Spell check is still absent so I have to be a little more careful.
Pity Ash was unavailable last night but as it worked out I got a good night’s sleep for very little expense and that is what counts.
Clouds cover the sun and I’m forced to reopen the curtains to get
sufficient light to see the keyboard.
I prepare a rollie taking extra care to roll it loose to allow me to get a draw.
I did go looking for some dope last night prior to going to the shop; unfortunately the dealer was out so no dope to be acquired.
Rollie annoys me by going out almost immediately.

My eyes are painful in the sunlight so will keep lens out for rest of day,
I must go and get some new ones this week.
The place is reasonably tidy save for the pile of debris next to the
chair, chip box etc.
I need a pair of bellows up my arse to get a decent draw from the cigarette, which is annoying. This type of baccy is renowned for being on the damp side and therefore difficult to draw.
At least the facial hair has gone and my hair is tidier than of late.
The sun’s path across the window takes it behind one of the cross members so some of its strength is lessened, yet still strong enough to warrant re closing the curtain,
Exercise!
Now the conditions are right.
I drain the dregs of my tea and make a mental note to wash out the cup the next chance I get,
I’m amazed anyone’s teeth remain white judging by the staining power of tea,
I will have to give the old gnashes a scrub sometime today, probably before retiring.
Once again I check the bottle of cider and am amazed at how little I drank to get into a mood to sleep.
I stub out my third cig or the day; one been composed of the remnants of last night which numbered six in total.
Which is a small amount to have smoked whilst drinking.
I take out some baccy and lay it in the sun in an attempt to dry it out a little.
I pour myself a tall glass of whisky and lemonade, take a lip smacking drink and adjust the articles on my table to allow it a position at arm’s length.
Another drink and the overnight taste in my mouth weakens; so much so that I drain the glass. Gargling with the last mouthful, small belch as the contents hit the stomach.
So what could have been a £30 night out cost me about £5.00 in booze and chips, not a bad start to the weekend.

My throat is thick with phlegm and I swallow what the whisky has disturbed.
My mood today? I dunno.
Carefree; to the point of not caring at all.
Fire is just beginning to make an impact upon the room’s temperature, I’m sat comfortable listening once again to the meditation channel.
Meditation is thought by some to involve sitting in uncomfortable positions whilst trying to relax.
I figure meditation is accessing, without too many problems, a state of mind, as in now.
Must be a cold day outside because the room is taking longer than usual to warm up; last night the room was well warm, lovely.
When returning to the room from one of my frequent trips to the loo I could feel the power of the heat.
I had the quilt wrapped around me like a sleeping beg last night and enjoyed every minute of the sleep; dreams came in the form of factual memories, luckily not too many were distressing enough to wake me up.
I am practising self-hypnosis when I go to bed in and attempt to make the mind receptive to the suggestion of stopping smoking.
Suggestion have to be simple and workable I.e. attainable so will take some thinking about.
My mood is governed by what I expect from the day,
Today for example I know full well, like most days no one will call so therefore there is no reason to tidy up or get myself presentable so I am at ease with my surroundings,
My actions will only affect myself so I’m free to do whatever I please.
I was surprised at the level of activity yesterday in the village at teatime; the shops and the roads were quite busy.
Judging by some of the shoppers they were stocking up on booze for the weekend others were merely choosing items for the nighttime to be consumed.


Would be interesting to know how much booze is actually bought on a weekend from the supermarkets and off licenses.
I consider last night’s consumption to being the equivalent to say four pints. A figure, which shouldn’t put me in the category of doing harm to the body.
Bet there’s a lot of hangovers today from over indulgence.
Some of the drinkers I used to meet on the afternoon shift would happily drink six pints of more, return home for a meal then go out and drink a further six pints.
Some drink six everyday and have cans at home, I am not trying to belittle my drinking habits just reassuring myself that they are not out of the way.
True I prefer spirits to ale but only because my stomach wont
tolerate quantity and I prefer quality.
The cloud cover is almost complete now and I’ve been forced to use the lamp.
I deeply regret having bought this pack of baccy because I’m not enjoying it one bit.
I know I could have gone the night without it and that annoys me.
My intention was to smoke to excess and sicken myself before I gave up but hell I can’t do that when the baccy doesn’t deliver the goods.
My mouth is dry so I pour another drink.
This time I have a cider shandy.
I roll another cig, this time the contents are in danger of sliding
out,
The drink is sharp and refreshing akin to lager shandies consumed during the Summer months whilst watching people play bowls,
Yes at one time I was reduced to sitting in the sun watching the members of the bowls club play their games;
Hell it beats watching three people doing the crosswords or playing dominoes!

I have a quick look through mail, majority of which is from a dating agency, I don’t really think I’m ready just yet.
Stubbing out one cig I immediately think about rolling another, and do.
Should I feel guilty, getting out of bed and sitting drinking?
There is no one to offend and its not costing the earth so why not.
Everyone should take time out in their daily lives for themselves, time to waste, do whatever they please; this is my time.
My stomach bulges over the top of my trousers and I’m reminded how quickly the health kick faded I will have to return to some form of regime.
I did consider going out for a meal today but after hearing the wind I decided not to.
I ate very little yesterday and there’s a big meal promised for tomorrow so I have no need to pig out today.
My mood is carefree, my life is problem free and I’m saving money by not planning on going out,
I’ll have to wait till Monday now to cash money,
My life is geared around not what I earn but what I have to pay out for; if I choose to stay in and only treat myself occasionally then I will save.
I was once told that a sign of my illness was extravagant spending,
once again I meddle with the auto correct setting but everything seeks o.k.
I’m frozen out of my Internet banking so will have to use the a.t.m.
My eyes are weary.
03:05 PM afternoon is passing nicely.
The dark clouds have disappeared and the wind has grown in strength.
I drain my whisky.
If I hadn’t of been sat here I’d have been sat in a club or pub without much conversation paying over the odds for gassy beer.
I am becoming a staunch supporter of drinking at home; people view home drinkers as people with a problem that they don’t want others to know about.

“He drinks at home”, is a stigma, one, which I think, is uncalled for,
I drink at home because it’s more comfortable and a hell of a lot more cheaper.
I’m sucking on this cig and wishing the baccy was gone.
This is how I turn my body against the smoke by indulging and then doing without.
I scrape the remnants of a meal from the jumper I’ve chosen to wear today, making it fit for another day’s wear.
I throw yet another rollie which has gone out on me into the ashtray.
Spell check worked momentarily on the last sentence.
The alcohol is beginning to take effect and I am now relaxed.
Two or three more drinks and I’ll be ready to return to bed if that’s what I decide upon.
My eyes are hurting so will have to give it a rest.
Gas went out on me so had to sit with quilt around me,
Sat up till 11.30.