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It’s been a few days past four months without a cigarette touching my lips. Apart from the occasional drunken puff, Matthew is still smoke free. My brother Matt, on the other hand, has taken back up the habit for as far as I can tell. The same can be said, I suppose, for my mother. I caught her with a cigarette this afternoon; having previously smelled smoke on/around her. She says she’s just having two a day to deal with the stress of work.

I don’t know, but I’m just a little disappointed, but then that is a case of applying my own personal values onto others… something that never results well.

Otherwise, oddly, this evening I’m feeling this unpleasant anxiety. I feel how I’m sure my little fish must feel whenever they’re scooped up out of the water; they flop around a bit then they just sort of chill, waiting for whatever will happen next, completely out of their control.