The Pink Shoe Diaries

now, i am not a religious person: so take the following statement with a grain of salt.

God does NOT want me to smoke.




it's true. i mean, i haven't really quit smoking. i am as i ever was: on a drunken weekend night i might smoke a pack in 4 hours. but during the week i don't smoke at all.

however the need was in me yesterday. all day that nicotine itch was in my skin and my fingers yearned for that perfect cylindrical shape of a cig. plus i wanted to go on a smoke break with my boss to hear the office gossip.

but she smokes Marlboro reds. puh-lease. i may as well go smoke pot on my break, that's how high those things make me feel.

so on my lunch break drive to the local conveneince store for a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights 100s. and as i confidently reach for my license (they are hardcore in Newton), i realize to my dismay that it is gone. and i know exactly where it is. on my desk, next to my keyboard, where i left it after trying to prove to Paul just hot ugly my license picture is (it's true. i look like a drunk cherub on meth in my picture. when i try to explain how ugly it is people are always like "no sir!" and then when i show them, they are VERY circumspect)

anyway so fine. no cigs for me. then, on my drive home i ran out of gas on the highway (not an uncommon occurance as i only remember to gas up when the light comes on). so i pull off the road into a service station and figure that instead of paying at the pump i will go in and pay and while i'm at it get a pack of cigarettes. so i get out of my car, take three steps in the direction of the kiosk and fall the fuck down.

legs splayed!

skirt up!

purse contents EVERYWHERE!!!!

(this is what i get for thinking i can wear three inch heels to work!)

the man at the next pump yells "hey are you ok!?" and as a small crowd gathers, i mumble "uh, yeah sure", i am so mortified that i literally want to just lay on the pavement. instead. i gather my purse contents, straighten my skirt, and hobble back to the pump. i am too embarrassed to stand there for too long so i swipe my credit card and put $3.86 worth of gas in my tank after which i leap into my car and peal out.

with no cigarettes.

and no pride.

and my left ankle still hurts :(

so you SEE? God really does not want me to smoke. i have the bruises to prove it.