one moment, let me just light this fag.
okay, that feels better, not the inhalation, rather the smoke drifting upwards and the uncomfortableness of the fag in my left hand whilst i type. i've got one of the step daughters friends, who also works for me, naked in the room next door, my two dogs at my feet and two kittens running around the landing.
if i havent mentioned it before, i run a pub, hence the landing rather than office or lounge or even bedroom.
so, why do i smoke, lets face it, at 38 i should know better. my partner gave up five years ago after her kids nagged her to death until she did it. to be honest, that's probably one of the reasons i still smoke, to show my independence ro should that be indifference to others views. plus of course, anythign to hasten a natural death.
i started at 15 i think. i was a bit of a misfit at school, i hung around with the cool kids and the geeks. there were two girls, sue horton and caroline o'neil, can't believe i still know their names. they knew the biker lads and i wanted to be a biker, okay so i wanted to shag caroline as well, but that was a side issue. they smoked so i started, easy as that really.
did i succeed? no to becoming a biker. no to sleeping with the girl. no, so far on hastening a natural death - still, there's time for that yet.
ah well, fag over. just like the day. normal saturday in the pub. hectic during the day for food, average for the beer sales. same people, same stories, same old depressing shit. yet for some reason i love it. am i the centre of attention, no, i dont think so. maybe soon i'll work out why i love working 80 hours a week and earning nothing.
if i had balls, i'd try to sleep with the 18 year old next door, unfortunately my financial position dictates that i can't lose this pub or my partner so i won't do that. there's always a reason not to isn't there.
ah well, sleep calls. i'll knock in tomorrow.