Ok, its only been two days on the lozenges and I just have to say, in case I wasn’t clear about it yesterday: ASS THEY TASTE LIKE ASS... but oddly I’m getting use to sucking ass and sometimes it seems bearable, but other times I want to throw myself out of a window, but I work on the 2nd floor, so that would only be prolonging the pain unless a cute ambulance guy offers me a smoke on the way to the ER. I guess I could ask for a 12 week coma, then wake up refreshed and smoke-free. Why isn’t that offered as a choice for quitting?
Bright and early the moment I got into the office and spewed out the foul lozenge so I could drink coffee I dialed my doctor’s office and asked, nay, BEGGED for a Chantix prescription. I even spelled out “tastes like butt” to the woman taking the message so my doctor would know A.) it was actually me calling, and B.) it wasn’t a cruel april fools joke that I was quitting and needed some serious pill action. (Note: as of 3pm no prescription called in, so either there were stupid sick people in front of my request, or I need to call again when its not april fools).
Like a trooper, I continued to pop these vile things all day and kept harassing the pharmacy people with increasingly irate phone calls asking if my prescription was called in. By the time I left for work I was cursing every driver in front of me (since I live in Maryland, all cursing was for a valid reason as it was starting to rain, and every time water falls from the sky here in Maryland, the drivers go insane).
I think part of the problem I’m having is that I’m not a sucking type of person. I don’t like life savers, tic tacs or even gum for that matter. I attribute a lot of this to my childhood when my mother left me in the car while she ran into a drugstore for something. Those were the good ol days when you could willy nilly leave your kids in the car without fear of child rapists swooping by and stealing us, or gypsies... gypsies were the people my parents always threatened to give me to, but they never made good on that promise. Ok, back to being in the car alone, except alone means with my sister, and frankly that’s about as good as being alone as she’s a little bit... touched in the head. Ok, back to the reason why I don’t suck on hard candy, and that’s because I totally inhaled a stupid lifesaver candy and nearly died. Nearly died as in I couldn’t breathe for a bit, choked and hacked it up. Another reason why you can’t leave your kids in the car, especially with hard candy or weapons, I just ruined it for everyone. Of course had I died it would have taught my mom a valuable lesson in that if you leave small children in the car with hard candy they may die and are worthless bartering tools for gypsies.
So, being forced (on a timeline) to suck these stupid ass tasting things without chewing them is practically forcing me to relive the horrible drug store episode where I nearly died alone (remember, sister is a zucchini in the head, I would have stood a better chance with an untrained beagle giving me the Heimlich). Ok, I don’t relive my near-death-experience thing, I just hate sucking on things that slowly melt in your mouth and leave a goopy film on your teeth especially when they taste like ass, and apparently give you the hiccups.
For those of you who are saying “how do you know what ass tastes like” I say... oh come on! Like you don’t know?