black magick

Whatever happened to my garden of black roses..
Oh nurturing years of so long..
Whatever happened to my
garden of black roses…
They say a stranger treated them wrong…

I took this picture in my grandma’s backyard, and played around with the color tones.  It reminded me of the song, “Black Roses” by Inner Circle.

Breaking bad habits

Almost two weeks ago I made a decision to break a bad habit. I was going to cut back on my coffee consumption in order to get my anxiety in check. So far, I’ve only strayed once, but only because we made plans to stop at a new coffee place in Belltown to spread some local love via support. Let me tell you, I wasn’t too happy with the extra caffeine running through my veins that day.

I was jittery the rest of the day and night. I also did not sleep until sometime after 3AM. And I was a crankasaurus when the girls decided to wake me up at 8AM. GRRRRRRRRRRR! But still, if you know me, I can’t give up my coffee completely. This is one addiction I’m not ready to give up.

This is not a demand on myself. I will not try to force myself not to stray, because it only makes doing it much more appealing. It’s a weird way of doing things, but it seems to work. There will be the occasion where I will have an extra cup. I will indulge without any guilt. Just the jitters. But hopefully it’s a rare thing. I like the way I’ve been feeling, even if it’s only been two weeks. Drinking water instead has helped keep me hydrated. I see it as a double positive.

Now for my next trick, I’m going to quit smoking.

Unlike the coffee, though, I won’t be having one a day. I’ll be giving it up completely. Although, I’m sure I’ll slip every now and then, but hopefully not often. I need to do this even more than cutting back on coffee.

I’m not going to go into detail about why, because we all know what smoking does. I don’t want to hear all the anti-smoking bullshit people spew. By the way, some of that shit: LIES. People who say kissing a smoker is like kissing an ashtray have probably not kissed either. I’ve kissed quite a few smokers and not one of them tasted like an ashtray. And yes. I do know what an ashtray tastes like. Don’t ask. It’s none of your business.

I’m sure you won’t trust my judgment considering the fact that I smoke. Well, my husband has kissed me many times. When I asked him, he said that I don’t. As a matter of fact, I don’t taste any different than a non-smoker. He doesn’t smoke and never did. He also doesn’t lie to me even if it gets him in trouble. I’d believe him before I believe any of you.

A major reason people do things like smoke, drink, do drugs, and anything else “bad” is because they don’t like being told what they can and cannot do. Stop telling me what to do, because I didn’t ask you.

I’ve digressed.

I’m quitting because I want to, not because someone told me to, asked me to, or whatever. My wonderful husband has suggested that I should quit for health reasons, but never demanded. Never pushed. Never told me that that was what he wanted. I’m doing this for him. I’m doing this for my daughters. I’m doing this for me.

This is my decision. Something I’ve thought about. Something I want to do. Who knows how long it’ll last, or if I’ll succeed. All I know is that I’m going to try.