I used to love a handbag. “Not another one” Wes would often mutter when I came home from town with a clutch/shoulder or across the body bag. If I was going out of an evening then I simply had to have a new handbag to go with my new wares.
No wonder I’m in extreme debt eh?
Since I became a parent, I like to travel light. Aside from the necessities (lip balm, phone, the kitchen sink for my son), I don’t want to be laden down with provisions I don’t really need. Thus, lately I’ve taken to keeping everything I need in my jeans or coat pocket. Phone & debit card in back pocket, lip balm in front pocket and away I go. My arms free to do as they please and my vast array of bags collecting dust in my collapsed drawer. Yes, it really has collapsed under the sheer weight of H&M’s accessories department.
Yesterday, we decided to have a family day out. Despite my son’s protests. Challenging age isn’t it; 2 & three quarters? My patience has been tested on more than one occasion this half term.
Anyway, I digress.
I’ve literally been attached to my Vape over the last week. Which I guess isn’t necessarily a bad thing as it would be worse if I was permanently attached to a cigarette.
My willpower has astounded me. I never knew I had it in me if truth be told. However, I’m still yet to take a sip of an alcoholic drink, because I can’t be certain that I wouldn’t reach for the fags. I’m not ‘there’ just yet.
So, back to yesterday.
The three of us decided to head up to Clifton, my favourite place at the moment. We parked up, which is a miracle in itself considering Bristol is the hardest city to find a parking space in.
Wes, in his infinite wisdom, had come up with an idea regarding how I carry certain items in my possession. Of late, I’ve taken to keeping my vape in my back pocket, however, because on this day I was wearing dungarees (first pair I’ve owned since 1994), old Brains of Britain suggested I put the vape in my front chest pocket.
Oooooo, that’s a good idea I thought.
OH HOW WRONG WAS I??!!!!
Picture the scene. I’m wrestling a tantruming toddler out of the car, he’s doing all he can to not comply. I’m distracted, I forget what’s in my pocket and what’s not. I bend down to put his coat on and there’s a loud smash. I can still hear it now.
I’m always dropping the vape. It’s spent more time on the floor than it has between my lips, so I wasn’t too concerned about the state of it. Quick dust off and it’ll be fine I thought.
OH HOW WRONG WAS I??!!!
Glass EVERYWHERE. An ocean of vape liquid begins to puddle on the pavement, because of course, I’d just filled her up.
I could’ve cried. I actually could’ve had a monumental tantrum my toddler would have been jealous of.
When I’m dealing with a child who has the propensity to have a meltdown no matter where we are and test the very small amount of patience I have, I look forward to nothing more than indulging in an ‘’adult moment’ in my garden. So, the very fact this dream was literally shattered in front of my eyes turned me into the moodiest bitch EVER.
I simply had to find somewhere in the vicinity that would sell Vape pens on a Sunday and something told me Clifton wouldn’t be it.
Luckily, I found somewhere in Broadmead that opened on the supposed day of rest and £38 later (a packet of fags is only £7 mind), I’m now the proud owner of a new Vape.
Could I get the fucking thing to work though? Could I heck.
Sat in a restaurant with a face like a slapped arse, Wes had to explain the instructions to me very sssllloooowwwlllyyyy, whilst also informing me I’d been an utter miserable cow all day.
When I finally got the hang of how to use the bloody thing, (honest to God, I swear you need some sort of Physics degree to grasp the basics) it was a momentous occasion, to say the least. I was jumping through the smoke rings I’d created and everything (I wasn’t, I’m not that talented I’m afraid).
My new Vape. Looks like a giant fountain pen. Excuse the state of my nails, I’ve not had chance to see to them for weeks.
Things were touch and go during this rather stressful day and whilst I didn’t give in and run off to the nearest shop to buy a packet of 20, it did remind me just how overwhelming my nicotine habit still is.
I hate how reliant I am when it comes to my vape. And now I’m 4 weeks in to my abstention of the evil fags, I’m constantly being questioned regarding when I’ll be following suit with the vape.
GIVING UP THE VAPE??!!! ARE YOU MAD!!?? I proclaim. You only have to appreciate how I felt when I was Vape-less for a few hours on a Sunday to understand what it would mean to give the damn thing up.
I have, however, managed to reduce the amount of nicotine I’m consuming with the Vape liquid. I haven’t noticed any ill effects as a result of this, I’m normally quite a moody cow so that’s nothing new.
In terms of the fitness regime I previously wrote about, well, how do you think that has gone? There’s been no declaration on social media so I think that tells you something.
Last week wasn’t the easiest of weeks for me to stick my running shoes on and hit the pavements. I was all geared up for it on Monday, but then my son decided I would make a good bucket and spent 3 hours throwing up all over me. I was literally covered. Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the visual aid.
So, all in all, aside from that blip I wrote about previously, that we don’t have to ever talk about again, I’m doing well. It’s been 4 weeks and I think I might make it another 4 weeks. Christmas will be quite the challenge, I envisage. However, for now, I’ll take each day as it comes and when Wes comes up with a good idea of where I could store my vape, I’ll tell him he’s lucky I don’t do something else with it.