Sunday Nights

"sssspppp" the sound of my cigarette as a light my first one since 45 minutes ago (that's estimated largely).

The only sounds filling the air in my garage (as that's where I go to smoke) is the clicking of the keys as I type this blog. (Which I must say is very addicting...blogging)

Today was an uneventful day at home. I slept in, which was nice, expect for when i realized that I fell asleep while on the phone and it had made it's imprint on my side: "call time 7:54" it said...wow, just about 8 hours on the phone, most of it spent sleeping. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one that had fallen asleep as well as not having to go to sleep alone last night.

It's now 11pm, I've spent most of my day researching and writing a paper about politics and the power of office politics; not something I am too interested in, but good to know I suppose. I think I'm going to fold laundry and go through the Sunday paper...after lighting to smoke another of course. The garage is my smoke haven, a place of quiet escape...the cigarettes, well they are my addiction and sadly my life source as it drives away hunger pains and assists my caffinated self to stay awake, making the most of the precious 24 hours that are in a day.

I stopped, just now, from typing, gathering thoughts as to what I want to express; I looked at my hand, cigarette between my fingers. I watched my hand continuously shake and I wonder: is it from the toxins I voluntarily inhale into my body, the amount of caffine coursing through me, or is it the normal lack of sleep I experience, of course I suppose it could be the lack in food as well...looking at my hands and pondering about their rhythmic shake that has become all too familar, I consider another though: maybe I should stop bitting my nails.