Making lists calms me down. I'm not an anal retentive person, nor do I need organization as a way to escape from a life of chaos. I am normally in love with chaos, always needing it to thrive. Making a list is just a kind of prayer, a spell, a command to the universe. Something magickal happens when I do make a list, and it reminds me of the main
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I am on my eighth day of Chantix, the new and controversial stop-smoking pill. It's not working worth a damn quite yet. In fact, I am more easily agitated and my dreams are so real it's scary. I am actually confusing them with waking life, and sometimes I wake up with my fists clenched, ready to fight or my eyes almost glued shut with hour old
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Eat, sleep, read, sleep, work, sleep, work like a dog, sleep, eat like a dog, sleep, read to fill the void, sleep, drink, sleep, drink with "friends", sleep, sleep, sleep
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