Musings from the roof

One of the greatest things about my little garret is that I can climb out of my study window onto the roof. There's a large flat area where I can sit, drink coffee or wine, lounge in the sun, watch the sunset, direct air traffic (this is a long story, one I will perhaps someday explain), or just enjoy the really grand view. I have only recently started bringing my beloved laptop out, as visions of it slipping from my lap into the street four stories below have not been pleasant ones. The roof (or "the porch" as I call it) was once my prime smoking spot, so now in lieu of the cigarettes I am allowing myself to bring the laptop out.

It's just dark out, hot and rather humid. The dragonflies (my dear friends, as they eat my sworn natural enemy, the dreaded mosquito, whose existence--beyond providing a tasty treat for my beloved dragonflies--will always be inexplicable to me) are swarming. I am having my post-run glass of wine. I ran for forty-five minutes (no idea how far--maybe 4 miles or so), which felt phenomenal.

I have been very irritated and irritable and irritating (to myself and I am sure others) for the past few days. I am upset that the quitting is still so difficult. I am still thinking about smoking quite a bit and having strong cravings. The cravings are becoming more abstract, if that makes any sense. I still have a few "real" physical-feeling cravings every day though. It is much better when I am out or with others (especially The Boy, my anti-smoking charm). I am just so sick of thinking about it and experiencing it. It's been almost a month (28 days on Sunday) for fuck's sake!!! When does it end?

Are there any doctors (er . . . of the medical sort) out there who can tell me what the fuck is going on? Am I just being a huge baby? In other words, am I somehow giving it more power than it should have? Oops . . . raindrops. A sign to stop this whiney post. More--hopefully from a me in better spirits--later.