2 minutes per square foot and those damn American Spirits

Yesterday I cleaned my studio for 3 hours. Count em. 1-2-3 hours for 350 square feet. That comes out to 1.94 minutes per 1 square foot. I am neither anal nor particularly clean. I am, however, extraordinarily negligent about thorough cleaning so every three months this is what I render myself doing. 2 minutes for every square foot. In addition, I was extremely hungover from agreeing, against all my better judgment, to drink entirely too much Sanza Gold the night before. And I was full of griddle potatoes and burnt coffee from the Buff. But it felt so good when I was finished I thought I should have a cigarette, but then I remember the partial lung I hacked up running Skunk Canyon the other day and opted to not. Yeah, so I have been smoking cigarettes more than normal lately. I have justified this behavior by committing to smoke American Spirits exclusively. You know, its more natural. This is generally my approach with food as well. As long as I am not eating potato chips, m&ms, and macaroni upon every eating occasion I can justify eating constantly. This, however, is not the case with cigarettes. It is still a tobacco product, and, despite the lack of tar, hairspray and several other popular cleaning agents, they are still highly addictive. Although I had a friend, who formally smoked several cigarettes daily and now smokes only one or less a day, tell me that his doctor suggested he was actually not addicted, but that he was more habitual. Rather, he smokes at certain time throughout the day simply out of habit, not addiction. Reflecting upon this, I evaluated the times when I most often smoke:

-out drinking

-after a meal where I ate too much

-walking to and fro

Upon each occasion the cigarette fulfills a specific purpose: to be social, to digest, to pass the time. That is good, because it indicates that I am not addicted, however two events this week prompted me to become concerned about my relatively moderate consumption of cigarettes. First, I received a stern address from my mother, who made me feel guilty about the clear lifestyle dichotomy I display by purchasing exclusively organic food but then smoking cigarettes. Good point. I guess I always justified that one with the natural American Spirits (btw I also smoke AS exclusively because they happen to be the only cigarettes that taste even remotely decent). Second, I went on a run that nearly killed me. Granted, the uphill to Skunk Canyon is gnarly, but damn, as I hacked and coughed all the way up and stopped twice for a break I suddenly felt like a contestant on The Biggest Loser. Truly, that was the breaking point. No more cigarettes. I hate running enough already without subjecting myself to suffocation and weakness. 

So I stopped. While I was dying on my run I had visions of angrily flushing my pack down the toilet as soon as I got home, but that didn't happen. In fact, they are still sitting atop my bookshelf as I write, but temp me no further. I think I struggle to throw them away due to the waste factor. Even if I don't smoke them I am sure someone will appreciate smoking them. So I will keep them.

Wait, who I am kidding? I want to smoke them. But I am going to limit them to the first of three of the above listed smoking occasions....only while drinking/partying. 

One rule is clear: never smoke inside. Especially in my beautifully 2 minute per square foot clean studio. Ahhh.