I've been feeling mighty crazy since I quit smoking. Instead of the crazy feelings ceasing, they are getting worse. Don't worry though. I'm going to the doctor and he'll make me all better. I hope...for the sake of the world. I haven't really wanted to kill anyone, but I sure have wanted to do some punching and a whole lot of crying.
Anyway, I've discovered 2 good things about quitting smoking despite the crazy hell. The first is that I smell pretty. I really like that. The second is that after a couple days of putting up with my pure bitchiness, Michael breaks down and throws a donut at me. I believe he has a secret stash somewhere and I need to find it. He knows that giving me a donut will at least shut me up for the length of time it takes me to shove the donut down my gullet. I've noticed that the donuts are getting bigger...
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