Wednesday, June 28, 2000

11:36 PM:  I just threw out the rest of my cigarettes (eight.)  I'm really trying to quit.  I had two today... I had about four yesterday, because I went all day without and then went crazy while waiting for my laundry to dry.  It's still better than 20.

This morning I woke up an hour late, feeling like shit.  My body literally felt like it had been slammed against a brick wall.  I've felt like that before, but not that strong.  It's the smoking, I know it is. This past weekend my friend Holly blew into town from New York... somehow I managed to go through about five packs of cigarettes in two days.  By Monday, I was coughing so hard, and my chest hurt so much that I really thought I was going to have a heart attack then and there.  Jesus, I've only been smoking for three years.

I read somewhere that about 45% of gay men smoke, whereas only 15% of straight men do.  Don't quote me on that one.  I don't think I've ever met a happy smoker.

So, whatever.  Big hugs.  I don't really want anyone to know I'm trying to quit, because if I make a big deal out of it, it'll just make me want to cheat more.  It's wasn't really so bad, getting through work today without cigarettes, though.

I am exquisitely poor.  I haven't paid June rent at all, but I think I can swing it when I get my paycheck on Friday.  That still leaves July as a big question mark.  My friend Bethany's boyfriend wants to buy one of my pieces--- but he lives on the west coast and I lost Bethany's email address.  I hope he's still interested.  I have to get a hold of him about that-- I'm dying for the money.  My show at the Kingston gallery set me back over $500 and I didn't sell a damn thing.  I'm going to charge him $300, which is slightly less that what I would have made from a sale at the gallery, after they take their cut.  I hope he can pay that much.  I feel really guilty about charging so much, which is completely stupid because it's not like I'm trying to pull a fast one on him.  It's just part of my general feelings of extreme guilt about everything in general.  Ugh.

My friend Don just quit a job at some web design place and he says they're looking for freelancers.  I really really really could use that work.  I have to work on my resume this weekend and do something about this first thing next week.  Of course, I'm totally paranoid about the whole thing and quaking in my boots, yadda yadda yadda... I am such a wimp.  Whatever.  I need to be brave and get shit done or else I'll fucking die this summer.

On the plus side, I have been lifting weights and some of my friends have started to notice.  It's still pretty weird to hear this and I keep feeling like I'm walking around in someone else's body.  Also, I don't want to turn into some kind of yuppie gay gym bunny... whatever.  I really should start running or something so I can work off that tummy I got over the winter.  If I start wearing fucking spandex please take me out back and shoot me.