It’s just one smoke. What’s the harm?
I quit smoking on New Year’s Day this year. I do that every couple of years or so, and it often lasts for a few months or even several years. When I backslide, it’s often as a result of stress: death, divorce, depression, or something else that starts with “d.” So far this year I have stayed away from smoking, mostly through refusing to buy a pack no matter how much I am tempted. Nonetheless, after a couple of beers or whiskeys with friends, provided they are smoking themselves, I’ll indulge one or two. Depending on how much I have had to drink, I’ll smoke more. The next day I wake up feeling gross, my sinuses full of horrible things, my teeth coated with moss or lichen, and a general crustiness. Then the self-loathing strikes. Weirdly enough, or perhaps suitably enough, this bout of self-flagellation purges me of the urge to smoke again. At least until the next shot of bourbon.
To be clear, I’m laying no blame on anyone but myself. A friend of mine read this strip the day after we had been drinking and smoking at his place and quipped, “It looks like I’m a bad influence on you.” He’s not; the stress of life is — which means I need better coping mechanisms. Stay tuned for the strip about my addiction to chocolate and caffeine.
I have a Patreon, if you are interested in supporting my work monetarily.
If you like what you’ve read, be sure to hit recommend below, to pass this story along to your followers! As always, consider following Panel & Frame for more emerging voices in Comics, Literature, Art, and Film!