3 rd. November.

3 November
Got up another sunny day and immediately began scratching among the baccy;
Sufficient makings to make a slim single, so in goes all the smaller pieces of gear and I’m into my first stoner within five minutes of getting out of bed.
Other pieces laid around are eaten.

I listen to quadrophenia,
(Wish I’d chosen something easier to spell!).

I take a mental spot-check of body and find most of pain is in and around neck and shoulders.
So concentrate on the muscles in that area, trying to relax some along the way.
I seem to remember getting a fair night’s viewing last night but I had to work for it, surfing through channels.
Awfully hard to write about the life of a stoner because most if forgotten and a lot of time is spent,
If lucky asleep.

The sun fails to lift me, my hair feels like shit, electric’s getting low on meter, and I have a couple of day’s unsightly growth on my face.
I’m sat with no baccy, some dope left, not enough to wipe the day out just sufficient to allow chill to guitar music,
the Who were getting on my tits.

I get the old safety pin out, beer mat and glass and spend a seemingly long time watching a slow burning chunk release its vapours and fill the glass ready for a smoke.
Long time since smoked like that, may be preferable in the future, at least baccy free.

I could murder a rollie now, but not in a full sense of desperation.
A smoke would be nice about now.
I have to remind myself what I’m actually trying to do and that is cut out tobacco.
Not just simply cut out but to be treated as something conquered, in check, able to switch on and off.
I finish off the second and last piece under glass and decided that’s it for today.
This afternoon is going to be hard without a smoke.
A lot of smokers tend to try and increase the high by having a cigarette soon afterwards, crazy idea.
End up drawing like hell on a cigarette far deeper than before.
Bed 11p.m.