Have a cigar

Actually, don't.

Sorry, I got distracted there for a minute. Analyzing the construction of the concrete slabs that make up my basement wall, and wondering about the arrangement of blue sticky-tack residue that dots its gritty surface was far more interesting.

I smoke a few cigarillos - little cigars - a month. The key difference between these and cigarettes being that, a) they're not made up primarily of wood shavings and b) you don't inhale them into your lungs so you don't die a slow painful death. But I got distracted again. The point being, I'm fairly acclimated to nicotine's effects and know how to relax.

Tonight I smoked a big cigar with a couple friends who also had big cigars. Unlike my five-minute Black and Milds, these take forty minutes to finish if you do it right. And holy fuck, I think I got a nicotine overdose. It happens to you when you have your first couple real cigars. I'm never fucking having one again. Not only do I feel like I'm gonna yak, no, not only do I feel cold because nicotine overload drops your blood pressure to a trickle. I'm fucking aware as hell.

Sorry, I had to lie down for a minute because I fucking feel like shit.

See, nicotine is a stimulant AND I FUCKING GOT AN ASSLOAD OF IT. All I'm doing right now is perceiving every little pointless detail of the world around me. I hear the faint buzz in the fluorescent light that illuminates this damp and cold basement. My eyes scan around and they stop on every fucking piece of text I can find. I had no idea that my TV was a Sony TV, I had no idea that Jumanji is at the top of a plastic shelf of board games off to my right. I never truly appreciated how that mail tub from the Postal service (which says PROPERTY OF US POSTAL SERVICE and my dad probably jacked it from somewhere back in his crazy, also nicotine-laden days) is precariously balanced on top of a fucking brown PetsMart box. Or is it Petco? I'm not fucking sure but I'm going to find out. It's from PetSmart.

Maybe when I 1.) stop analyzing my surroundings and my life like a madman and 2.) stop FEELING FUCKING NAUSEOUS I'll be able to appreciate the productive conversation that ensued from being on the porch with my buddies for the better part of an hour. But until then...it's gonna be a long night.

To my one reader: don't ever smoke, please. Don't worry about me either, I'm never doing that shit again.