Smoking adn Writing can be Deadly!

by on Dec.22, 2009, under Uncategorized

Have you ever found yourself writing a health article and giving your reader the ever-important advice to get regular exercise and eat a healthy diet? Sure, most of us have. Have you written this while you are typing on your keyboard in mid-afternoon, yet you’ve not eaten one single piece of solid food? Have you ever written an article on weight loss while scarfing down a Snickers bar? Do you warn your readers about cancer risks while you are sucking down a half of a carton of smokes? I have! I am guilty of doing this all the time. I guess I separate myself from my work when I have to function. Whether or not you are a writer, I am sure that you can relate to what I mean. We all can be hypocrites when we are doing our job, trying to act professionally. Oh, you don’t do that, huh?

Let’s turn back to my profession, writing. The fact that many writers lead a sedentary lifestyle alone is a great health concern for us. If you couple that inactive lifestyle with not eating regular meals or a balance of healthy foods, drinking too much coffee, smoking, or even drinking alcohol, what you get is a mix of behaviors that can seriously affect your health. The life of a writer is one that can pose several different health problems. Carpal tunnel is another problem that some face. Exposure to radiation from our computers is even an added risk for writers.

My greatest risks are not eating properly, drinking way too much coffee, smoking too much, and sitting on my fat butt instead of exercising. At least I have come to accept my flaws and embrace them, right? No, by today’s politically correct standards, I am a pig! That’s right. It is all right, though. I have come to accept my likeness to a swine.

I guess I am just an unhealthy person who would just rather write something meaningful than do ab-crunches while puffing on my cigarettes. (Yes, that is the only damn way you would get me to do ab-crunches!) I like smoking. I know I am evil for saying that. Smoking has become a taboo in our society. Daily we smokers gather at entrances to buildings, outside stores, and in dark alleys just to have a puff.

We are second class citizens. We get the worst seating in restaurants. We are those strange people that you see inhaling an entire cigarette before getting out of our car in the parking garage. I know we look like a bunch of out of control imbeciles that are dependent upon our nicotine fix, but we are people too. We pay more taxes than any group in America. We pay for new city streets, new parking garages, and almost every damn thing. That gives me a right to complain.

So, why do I smoke? Yes, I could hear you asking that. Smoking gives me something to do with my hands. Those long sticks of carcinogens are my writing buddies. As I write, these white sticks turn to gray as they burn out in the astray. (At least this means that I get less nicotine and tar in my lungs, right?) Many smokers report that they calm their nerves. Other smokers started to lose weight. HINT: This does NOT work.

Yes, I have tried to quit smoking. The longest I ever made it was four days. I know that is not long, but for a smoker, four days without a cigarette is like ten years! My mistake was quitting in cooperation with my husband. Kelly and I quit together. He was a tyrant and I was a bitch. He sat on the computer and complained. I went for walks five times a day. Finally, he was such a bear that I went out and bought him a pack of cigarettes. When I got home, I threw the pack at him. I growled, “Smoke these damned things, because the cigarettes will take longer to kill you than I will!” After that, we both agreed to kill ourselves slowly with the little white sticks from Hell or the Carolinas, depending on the brand you smoke.

The fact that many writers lead a sedentary lifestyle alone is a great health concern for us. If you combine an inactive lifestyle with not eating right and drinking a lot of coffee, you are playing Russian roulette with your life. I know this. You know this. Why is it that many of us still persist? Perhaps it is for different reasons. One reason that I am unable to change is that I know who I am.

I know that realistically I am not going to ever be an aerobic queen like Jane Fonda. I have accepted the fact that genetics as well as my lifestyle will guarantee that I will never be a svelte super model wannabe. I have come to the terms with the fact that I may not live to be eighty years old. I am not sure who would want to live that long and why, but I am sure that I probably won’t. I am ok with that.

You see my Mom died at the age of 59 from pancreas cancer. She took every vitamin and herb recommended in hopes of lengthening your life; she didn’t smoke; and she didn’t drink. I have chosen to do what makes me happy. If people disagree with that, that is all right. If people feel the need to tell me how dangerous that is, that is all right too. Who knows, perhaps one day I will quit smoking and take up aerobics, but if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath! Perhaps I just have a more realistic view of my limitations that some other people do. This is my philosophy: If all we ever do is worry about what will kill us and when, when will we ever have time to live?

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