Dying for a fag

For the last week I have been absolutely gagging for a cigarette.

First, I was stood waiting for some mates outside our local Chinese. I was there for 30 mins+ waiting. (Well they tried to call to say they'd be 15 minutes late, but didn't get through, then were later than 15 minutes, and I was a bit early). You just feel like such a moron stood there waiting... I wanted something to do with my hands. Something to cling to.

Then there's the smell of it. Especially in this rainy weather where everyone stays close and huddles. Most of all the menthols. I remember them. Like smoking water. But just the tobacco smell. All safe and warm and comforting.

Which leads me onto the stress. Less than a week and I shall be viva-ing away and the thought completely terrifies me. I just want to wrap myself in tobacco smoke and let the world drift away on it.

The irony is that I've never been a smoker. Not really. Socially. To keep my best friend company. Out of curiosity. But I've smoked one in my whole time at university. Just one. And I haven't smoked regularly since I was 17. But right now I could kill for it.