Tuesday 17 July 2007

Quitters who can't be arsed

My boss emailed all the pariahs to say that unless people actually turned up, the Friday sessions, they’d be cancelled. Apparently, while I was smoking myself into an ecstatic reverie at Latitude, only one person bothered to seek support from Our Lady of Quitting, Carmen.

“It could have been just a bad week with people on leave,” he said optimistically, probably thinking the same thing as me: a load of guilty people closeted away with a lighter and 20 Bensons. Sad.

Anyway, I’m back on the support sessions now I don’t have rehearsals or overwhelming cider abuse to use as an excuse. I feel a bit apprehensive actually. Taking a quitting class feels a bit like doing a small course at university and I don’t want to let the teacher down. I’d rather get a gold star and a lollipop than a sigh of supportive disappointment. Then again, maybe Carmen’s dishing out the Chupa Chups on the sly. Sweet.

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