I think its when I'm stressed that I'm at my weakest. Its been three days since I took a hit, and with the bills piling up, and the kids screaming in the background, its almost unbearable.
It seems like I can't escape the outside heat. Just a few seconds in the hot sun leaves me with little beads of sweat forming on my forehead and top lip, something I can't even escape in the cool refuges of my air conditioned home.
Please continue after the fold...
They say that exercising can help with the urges, but with every breath I take, I can't help but think of rolling up a fat one with that green goodness and puffing it on down.
When I've got the cash I love the good stuff, the Red Russian Cale or Oak Leaf. But now I'm so desperate I'm afraid I might end up in the McDonalds drive-through, lighting up the iceberg in the McChicken and breathing in its sweetness.
I started with cheese doodles, just an experiment when I was a kid. They didn't do much for me, but I thought they made me look cool. I didn't get into the Lactuca sativa until I was a senior in high school, buying a pack of Dole's at Harris Teeter on my 18th birthday. They say the first one is your body's way of telling you no more, but I was hooked on the first one.
They say the urges will lessen, but won't ever completely go away. Through all of the e. coli recalls and the droughts out west, I still maintained my habit, considering myself a connoisseur.
God knows I owe it to myself to keep trying though, because smoking lettuce causes cancer. At least that's what my congressman told me.