Nothing is original about me. 
I'm trying to kick the habit of smoking and bi-monthly binge drinking. The drinking I can do pretty easily. While I enjoy lotsa pints, I can replace with nights out at the movies. Even if I cut it back to once every month or two, I'll be happier about that. The smoking is proving to be more difficult, as I always have a yammering for one around this time of day. And as soon as work starts, it gets worse. At that point, I crave a cigarette once every 2 hours, as scheduled. 
Am I eating more? A bit. Out of sheer boredom, unfortunately. Now that I'm not going outside at work everyday, I prowl around the lunch room, plunking spare change in for Jelly Bears. It's a new addiction, by god. Even that is predictable, though. I don't really even care for the sticky, sugary, sweet little fuckers, but I need to bite down on one of the smiling figures every once in awhile, just so I don't cave in and head for the back alley.   I'm ignoring the buck-fitty potato chips and the chocolaty bars of goodness, at least.  
I don't even talk to anyone at work anymore.  The smokers think that I've abandoned them and think I'm a wanker.  The non-smokers look at me smugly and dare me to come talk to them now. Both groups would crow if I gave in now.  So, of course, my temper's off, and I'm ready to take out anyone who looks at me funny. 
I can taste it, that burning, hot sensation.  I can imagine sucking it back, and then feeling relief.  I can, but I won't. 
I'm dying. Dying for everything that will kill me in the end.