just another day in the office

not a bad one, either. i mean, i got a bit of work done, lots of emailing and organizing, and apparently my screw-up of not having registered the day off i took in may is fixable. i also bought a large, pink pillow, the carrying around of which proved most amusing, and i think i got around the eye-strain thing (assuming that i'm correct in my assumption).

we were joined for lunch by the daughter of one of the civilians in my previous unit, who'd been abandoned by her section for the day (we think it's a sick form of initiation). i laughed to myself when her mother told me she was pretty (whose mother doesn't think they're good-looking? if it's yours i don't wanna know), and the guys were giving me a hard time on the way ("if she's not hot she's not eating with us").

amusingly enough, she's quite the fox :P

the kid sent me a book on quitting smoking the easy way, and i flipped through it. yes, yes - he's right about pretty much everything. but there's an aweful truth that's only touched upon.

just because we know it's marketing crap, doesn't mean that the image promised doesn't influence us. my smoking is partially a really dumb mechanism of letting others know that i'm a non-conformist, and through my own eyes i see myself differently, darker, because i suck fanatically on chemicals that are killing me.

no, there's no great logic, no sense of accomplishment, no relief... in fact, there's not a damn thing that's positive about smoking. except that smokers have assigned a meaning to the act of consuming carcinogens and almost justifiably fear the removal of the stigma.

how can i be fucked up if i don't smoke?

what i've just said is a combination of non-realities that make everything said in the book ring out even truer, unfortunately i still can't bring myself to let go. so i'll just have to deal with being smelly and offensive, and short of breath.

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