It's been more than a month since I started working and a puff here and there maybe, but I have not smoked a FULL cigarette of my own since before October 25. What with everything going on, I would have to say "that's pretty freaking cool". Does this mean I reserve the right to light up after I leave the Starbucks where I am writing this post. As Mr. Big would say, "abso-fucking-lutely". Will I? I sure hope not.
I have to say the best part of my life is getting back into a routine and doing the things I love to do. With that being said, I have started to watch episodes from my master collection of Sex and the City DVDS from the very beginning and started crying at every other one. I felt I was right there with Carrie. Now, please, I know this sounds trite and contrived and just super-over-the-top-frivolous that I am using Sex and the City for my therapy, but why don't you start falling in love with Mr. Big with your close friends all around when it completely falls apart and explodes and see what happens?! And then get honest with your self. And after that, see if you have shed a tear or see if your eyes are a bit moist. If they aren't, I beg of you to go shopping and get a soul. I thought I made a Faustian deal, but it turns out that even though I may have, I am trying to get my soul back. And for that, I got to cry. I consider that a blessing.
I love Carrie Bradshaw. I swear, if I could have had a cosmopolitan after work decompressing with my episodes, I would have whipped up a pitcher and watched and cried till I fell asleep. I think I will start a blog on starting over and my articles will be much like hers. With a twist of spirituality and shopping (Can you mix the same in one post?Is that allowed?I suppose it's all about creative license!).
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