This is going to kill me, I promise

For those of you who are new and don't have me on FB, I've started running. Nothing much to brag about considering I can last about 2 minutes at a jog before my fat clogged heart and tar covered lungs beg me to slow down, and I do.

It was getting better. I had quit smoking, I was eating right and slowly I was able to run a bit more.

And then my body decided it wasn't happy with this arrangement.  Before, when I would walk, I'd get these horrible crippling foot cramps that made me stop. I've learned it is because I walk too fast, and that I walk strangely. The fix for this is one of two things, 1.) Buy a pair of specially made Nikes that we can't afford or 2.) Slow the fuck down.

Guess which one I picked?

And then lately, every time I run my legs protest in a god awful way. My shins hurt, my knees hurt... the list goes on and on. And its not getting better. Its to the point that after my little phone app. tells me to walk, I'm holding my body up on the bars of the treadmill wondering why the fuck it still hurts so much.

Lets recap shall we? My feet get horrible cramps when I go faster than 2.5KM an hour. My legs, shins, knees and feet are all trying to kill me. My lungs, blackened from years of smoking aren't clearing up like their supposed to, and nothing I try is working on that front.

So someone explain to me why I'm torturing myself when I was perfectly content sitting on my ass chain smoking and stuffing cake in my mouth? I mean honestly...

Helloooo? I'm a caaaaar...

I haven't abandoned you, my two readers. Heh. I've just not been in a mood to write. Actually, thats a damn lie, I'm always in the mood to write, I just don't know what to say most of the time.
Before I had a job and I could bitch about it (Walmart) and I had things to do and places to go and little dramas and adventures that amused me and I wanted to write them down.
The biggest issue in my life right now is a tie between quitting smoking and the fact that I could be lactose intolerant. I know, DRAMAZING.

Life exists as normal. Or as normal as the two most fucked up people to ever grace this planet can act. I have dishes to do. Sleep that I need, seeing as its 5am here. But no, these things will not happen. Because there is a car, somewhere out there, with an alarm that has been going off constantly all night. And because I have this horrible cough that has been happening all night.

Finally took some cough meds though. How responsible of me. I haven't found the car yet, but when I do I'm going to fucking light that shit on fire so fast, those damn Foxes with their kangaroo buddy won't know what the fuck just happened.
*Cough* Crabby Jen is crabby.

There was more to update you guys on, I'm sure of it. I can't remember anything so instead have a picture of something from England.



I'll write up a post in the next few days about our *Magical* adventure where I was forced to wander through the city for hours on end, walking mile after mile and taking picture after picture. It was awesome. There is still so much to see and do, but I'm not in any rush seeing as when my crazy family swoops into town I'll be forced to do it all again, so might as well enjoy it with them instead of secretly hating it like I do when it comes to visiting things in Chicago that I've been dragged to a million times.

So yeah. Thats my update. Fantastic wasn't it? Now I need to go find that fucking car...

Allow me a minute to rant.

Look, I know giving up is supposed to be difficult, and I know it's not easy otherwise more and more people would quit each day. I know it's something you have to work at and really want in order to get to the end goal of being smoke free. But I bet all these fuckers who tell you this have either never smoked or when they quit they got to fucking use patches. Right? Right.

I haven't smoked in 5.5 days. In Jen time thats about 170 some odd cigarettes. Which is wonderful.
For 2.5 of those days I've been with out patches. WITH OUT PATCHES.

The first three days I had some discomfort with the patches, some aches and just ignored them. Determined to quit. The third day, I laid on my arm and almost started crying because the joint pain was just unbelievable.We pulled the patch off. I slept for a few hours, still sore when I woke up. Figured we'd do with out the patch that day, let some of the nicotine out of my system.. see what happens.

Yesterday I put a patch on my forearm and not 10 minutes afterwards I see this...



Yeah. Red, blotchy, that bruise right about the word "Right" is from the patch. Awesome no? So I took that patch off. So now I'm trying really fucking hard not to march to the shop to buy a pack of cigarettes to hell with my lungs.

Make matters worse, John's about to go on night shifts so I'll have 4 days of nothing but myself to keep me occupied. Awesome. I see this as just one more step towards failure! Horrah!.

Someone get me a cigarette, I can't handle this shit anymore.

Holy shit, This isn't easy

Greetings people who might actually still read this blog. Been a while, hasn't it? Well I moved to England, I've been here almost 8 months now. I had a job, Don't have it any more (Temp work.) and we're currently looking for a new apartment to rent that is 200£ Cheaper than this one.

And I've quit smoking.

You can imagine the ray of sunshine I've been the last day or so, can't you? But I bit the bullet and slapped a patch on. I've managed to go

0 weeks, 1 day, 14 hours and 20 mins.

Without a cigarette and with out killing anyone. I've been trying to keep busy, but I've run out of Ironing to do, and the dishes are all clean. I suppose I could sit down and watch five seasons of House on DVD. That might get me through the 2 weeks of hell, eh?

I've tried quitting before, but they were half assed attempts and not really trying. The last time I tried patches I actually bought a pack of cigarettes with the patches and just laughed and smoked. That was enjoyable.

This time it's no cigarettes. Just patches. And a lot of verbal abuse thrown at John, who is taking it like a champ. "I just want you to know, I'm very proud of you." Me: "I CAN NOT SMOKE PRIDE, CAN I!?!"

yeah, ray of sunshine.

Yesterday someone told me smoking is bad. I pointing out,

"Yeah, Smoking is bad. But so is Manslaughter. Just sayin'."

Ok, kind of a lame update, but Im sorry

I've been walking/running kinda for the last week or so and last night I was looking at my feet and for the first time in a long time...I have hot ankles.

That is all.