Just Say No!

I smoked my last cigarette at about 10.30pm on Thursday night. The consequences of smoking through the lergies means almost certainly prolonging it, and worsening it. So I managed to resist when I popped out to buy a newspaper yesterday, and the chesty cough I have today is a sure sign that I made the right decision.
So on a weekend when daughter dearest has skipped off with her Father to visit family and watch football, I am ill, unable to run, drink, smoke or party. Crap. I can't help but feel ever so slightly PISSED OFF at this!
Despite illness, my other unpaid job kicks in as soon as I wake. Motherhood has its compensations, but boy do you have to bust your ass. I get up, wash last night's dishes, load the washing machine, mop the kitchen floor, get the clothes off the line, put the newly washed clothes on the line, cycle to the post office to collect some packages, shout at Clarke to get her bag ready for when her Dad comes, discuss homework, all this before 12pm.
The day is bright and crisp. It's just one of those days... that I can't bear to waste inside, so I phone a friend who lives in Ladbroke Grove, and arrange to visit him. I'll take the train to Notting Hill, and have a trundle down the 'bello. Which despite mass tourism, commericalisation, and high prices, is still a great place to spend a few hours on a Saturday afternoon. I'll have a cup of tea, and a slice of cake somewhere, find a bargain for a tenner, and get some fruit. They say fresh air is good for the constitution. And maybe I won't feel the call of the cancer stick so much if I keep busy.